


Almost

by Intrexxt



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Beating, Character Death, Death, Domestic Violence, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prisoner of War, Starvation, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Waterboarding, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intrexxt/pseuds/Intrexxt
Summary: [World War II AU] The war is over, and Eggsy is suffering from PTSD that gives him vivid flashbacks of the worst and most memorable moments of his life. He no longer knows what's real or not, and suffers as he relives his moments as a soldier at a Prisoner of War Camp in the Pacific Theater.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maries1993](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maries1993/gifts).



> This fic was probably about 2 years in the making. It started with me writing a simple scene and it spiraling out of control as I tried to balance sensitivity and historically accurate storytelling. But it's still probably not historically accurate. I kept giving up and rewriting and the only reason it's finished it because my great friend, olgaHikolaevna, stuck with me until the end. Eventually I found a writing style that could help me tell the story I wanted to. It's non linear and it follows Eggsy's flashbacks.
> 
> Inspiration taken from The Railway Man the movie and Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko.

Eggsy was dying. He was sure that he would keel over any minute now as he stared out into the open sky between the bars of his bamboo cage. His legs were pulled close, he didn’t have enough room to extend them, and he was sitting in his own shit. Fire ants crawled over his legs, but he had no energy or will to fight them off. The sun was beating hard against him, pulsing in intensity as mosquitos nipped at him. His throat was dry and his tongue sandpaper, the humid air doing nothing but suffocating him. He had been suffocating for weeks, the life being choked out of him by the hands of his tormentors. His body, comprised of twigs covered in flesh, ached. The pain so strong that it turned into a numb, dull feeling as he prayed for death. No man should live like this. 

As he stared out into the never ending vastness of the pacific sky, rippling with heat and delirium, he saw small dots appear. As those dots grew larger he wondered if he had succumbed to death’s sweet call, but soon those dots grew arms and legs and heads. They were parachuters. For the first time Eggsy willed death away, he was so close to being free. He didn’t remember being let out of the cage, but he was standing in front of a rescuer and felt the tendrils of hope creeping up his legs much like the fire ants had before. He held his hands out to grasp at the rescuer, but as he did so the world seemed to stretch and morph. The rescuer was just out of reach, and his face had morphed into a the wicked grin of Charlie Hesketh. The tendrils of hope that had made it to his side had turned into hands that grasped him and pulled him backwards. 

He pitched forward, falling on his arms. His body had lost the little strength that had remained and he found himself voiceless. He could not scream, and even if he could there would be no one to hear him. 

He was pulled into the dark room, a room he had dreaded. The floors were grates and his stomach curled at the smell of stale water. The hands that had grasped him had turned into people that tied him down atop the table, his arms spread straight out and his legs straight down. He felt nausea clawing at his stomach, threatening to expel the bile that was left in his stomach. He was no longer suffocating on the dry land. He was drowning with a towel placed over his mouth and a hose pumping water.

He could feel his stomach filling and the nausea grew worse. He struggled against the restraints, unable to cry or yell. Soon it became too much he was going to throw up, and with one swift movement he jumped off the bed and ducked his head in the toilet, his dinner and wine making an unpleasant reappearance.

He laid his head, slick with sweat, against the cool toilet seat. It was just a dream, a vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. He sat there for a good few minutes before throwing on a robe, he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep tonight. He gathered up a loaf of bread, he had gotten a couple from Roxy during their nightly meetings, and a glass of fine wine. He looked over the wine a few times, remembering the look of it in the toilet. He put it back and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. If he couldn’t sleep he might as well get drunk.

With bread and whiskey in hand he left his home atop Kingsman Tailor and made his way to the newly established accounting firm. He knocked on the door a few times, hoping the owner would hear him. He was glad to hear footsteps approaching, and the door swinging open with a slightly annoyed looking Merlin in the doorway.

The annoyed look on Merlin’s face dissolved into one of sympathy and then understanding when he took in Eggsy’s appearance. He led him inside and into the sitting room, grabbing two tumblers on the way.

Eggsy set the bread on the table, “I thought it would-- I thought it best to bring you somethin’ for waking you up and all.”

Merlin raised a hand, sighing slightly. “You didn’t wake me Eggsy.” He gestured for Eggsy to come closer, and Eggsy did. Merlin placed his hands on Eggsy’s shoulders, and the younger felt his resolve begin to crack. “And leave the gifts for our meetings. You never have to bring me something if the nightmares become too much.” 

Before he realized it Eggsy was being hugged, and he finally felt himself shatter. He was crying, a disgusting bout of sobs came out of him before he even realized he had been crying. He felt Merlin’s hand pat his back, shushing him gently as if he was a crying infant. Which, at points, he felt he was no better than. 

“God Merlin. I miss him so much.” He didn’t know where that came from, but it was the truth. Everyone knew it, and no name needed to be spoken to understand exactly who Eggsy was talking about.

“I know you do. We all do,” Merlin said, the second part was more to himself than anything.

Eggsy was sobbing, burying his face into Merlin’s chest and squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of gaining some kind of composure. But every time he tried to build himself back up, he’d shatter again into even more pieces. He felt fingers in his hair, and his sobs and quieted until they stopped and it was just a hug. 

“You be good now you hear?” It was his mother. He pulled back, smiling brightly at her. She had unshed tears in her eyes, and a smile on her face. “You behave yourself and listen to your commander.”

“Yes Mum,” He laughed a little as he spoke and his mother pinched his cheek.

“And you better come back. Promise?” Her tone was serious with hints of sadness, and she grasped his arms. Running her thumbs over his forearms. “I can’t lose you too.” 

He knew what she was talking about. His father had served in the Great War and died in combat. He never met him, but he heard that he was a beloved and great man. Eggsy would be content to be half the man he was. “I promise Mum. We’re gonna win this war and you’re gonna see me sitting atop a float on a parade, streamers and confetti everywhere.” He wanted to cheer her up at little. And he was pleased to hear her give a slight chuckle.

“I’ll believe it when I see it yeah?”

“You will.” He squeezed his mum’s forearms. He didn’t want to go. 

“Please be careful,” Her tone had lost all humour again. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded. He kissed her cheek and hugged her tight. “I got to go, alright. Take care.” He let go of her, heading towards the train that would get him to training. He walked backwards so he could keep talking to her, his voice getting progressively louder as the distance became greater. “Tell Daisy how much I love her everyday. And keep that bastard Dean away from her at all costs. I love you, Mum.”

“I love you too Eggsy.” Her voice was loud and weak at the same time as she waved at him. He would see her starting to cry, but he held his resolve. He couldn’t cry in front of her. He had to be strong.

He boarded the train with no hassle, and he had found a nice compartment that no one had claimed yet. He set his bags at his feet and settled in for the long journey. His eyes had only been closed for a few moments before there was a light knock on his compartment door and it slid open.

“Excuse me,” it was a woman, no a girl. She couldn’t be much older than himself. He raised an eyebrow at her, “is that seat taken?” She gestured to the seat across from him.

“No, you can sit,” he said, gesturing to the seat with his head.

She smiled at him, grabbing her bags and sitting down, closing the compartment door. Eggsy was confused, he didn’t think that ladies could join the army. But he didn’t say anything at first, he waited for her to get settled in and then some. 

“You fightin’ in the war?” He asked with no class or lead in. 

She snorted, shaking her head. “No, I wish. But I am part of the war effort. I’m a nurse.”

“And you’re comin’ to trainin’?”

“People get hurt in training don’t they?”

Eggsy nodded his head, smiling a bit. “Makes sense. Though I think women could fight if they wanted to. I’ve seen my mum angry. She could take on the entire Nazi Party.”

She laughed again, it was a sweet sound. “Well I hope you get that from her.” She paused, extending her hand. “I’m Roxanne by the way, but you can call me Roxy.”

He took her hand, shaking it a few times. “I’m Eggsy.”

“Eggy?”

“ _ Eggsy _ . I know it ain’t the prettiest name, but I like it better than Gary.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Eggsy.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Roxy proceeded to pull out a book and Eggsy took that as his cue to go to sleep. He shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as he could against the hard walls and stiff seats. But he soon found himself falling asleep to the rocking of the train as it barrelled down the tracks. 

Some hours later he awoke to a screech as the train came to a halt. The smell of rusted metal and excrement surrounded him, as did the people he had fought with. He ran a hand down his face, he was so thirsty and the train was so hot. He wasn’t sure how long they had been travelling, but he knew that they hadn’t received any food or water the entire time. It was hell.

He kept his head near the small holes in the side of the train, he had used them to get a breeze while they were moving and now it served as a way to see where they were. Although it didn’t help much. It all looked the same to him, large trees and fields, extremely different from the kind he was used to. And in all honesty, it just made him homesick.

He sighed, standing up to stretch out his stiff legs. The train car was packed tight like a tin of sardines and the only way to stretch out was to stand up. He stood for a couple minutes, bending his knees and arms to loosen them up. And as he was moving the door opened, all heads turned towards the open door, and the Japanese soldiers that had just opened it. Most shielded their eyes from the harsh light, Eggsy included. They were marched out of the car and into the scorching sun and he wasn’t sure if he prefered it here or back on the train.

He looked at the neat line of Japanese soldiers in front of him, they held sticks in their hands and their suits were neat. Then he looked at the crowd of exhausted soldiers beside him, and how greatly the two groups contrasted each other. He spotted Harry, dirty and disheveled like the rest of them and yet somehow more composed, and a wave of relief washed over him. He continued searching the crowd, spotting Alastair, Merlin, James, and unfortunately Charlie. 

He heard shouting, and he knew it was directed at him even if he didn’t understand it. But when he turned his head forward a sharp pain stung his cheek and forced his eyes shut. He could feel the cool wetness of tears in his eyes as his body reacted to being slapped. 

“Don’t you  _ ever  _ talk back to me again you little bastard!” Dean shouted at him, poking him in the chest before he could even open his eyes. 

“Or what?” Eggsy challenged, he was fed up with being Dean’s punching bag.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you, that’s what!”

“Dean! Please leave him alone!” He could hear his mother shout. She was holding a crying Daisy, trying to calm her.

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth, tramp! I’m talkin’ to this fuckin’ shitstain.”

“You don’t talk to my mum like that!” Eggsy had remained cool up until this point. He could take someone insulting him, but not his mum. He shoved Dean back, regretting it immediately as he was pushed against the wall. Dean’s forearm was pressing into Eggsy’s throat as the old man’s spittle hit him in the face. He could barely hear his words over his mother’s yelling and Daisy’s crying. 

Eggsy was flailing his legs, his fingers clawing at Dean’s arm. It took a bit, but eventually he knee’d Dean right in the groin. The man crumpled to the ground and Eggsy went with him as he tried to catch his breath. But he didn’t stay down long. He hopped onto his feet, flinging the door open before he was even fully upright. He scrambled out of Dean’s reach, throwing an apologetic look at his fear stricken mother before sprinting away. 

As he ran he could feel his eyes stinging with tears he never shed. He rubbed them, trying to will the feeling away. But as he did he could feel his hand rub over sweat gathered on his brow. He could feel his lungs burning with exertion. He could hear his own labored breath and feel his feet pounding against uneven ground.

“Pick up the pace Eggsy.” But instead he stopped, hunching over to catch his breath. He looked up to see Harry. His arms were behind his back and his eyebrow was raised. “You’re behind the rest of your squad. That’s a bit unusual for you isn’t it?”

“Yeah well,” Eggsy spit on the ground and straightened up. “I ain’t got no sleep. Fucks with a person’s stamina.”

“And why didn’t you get any sleep?”

Eggsy hesitated. He wanted to tell that Charlie and that little gang of his dumped ants into his bunk. It took all night to get them all out, and every time he laid down he’d feel a crawling on his skin. But he couldn’t tell, that wasn’t who he was. “I got a real bad stomach ache. Must’ve ate somethin’ rank at supper.”

It was obvious that Harry didn’t believe him. But he didn’t comment on it. “Walk with me boy.You need to keep moving.” He started walking down the path, and Eggsy followed obediently. “I expect you to be the first one to finish this run tomorrow.”

“Will do,” he said with a smirk. He gave a mock salute, that caused Harry to stop and stare disapprovingly.

“Uh, I mean. Sir, yes sir!” He snapped his heels together, facing Harry, and held the salute. To which Harry responded with a salute of his own. They continued to walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

“Eggsy, I see a great deal of potential in you.” Harry said out of nowhere; which honestly surprised Eggsy. There was a long pause before he responded.

“Ain’t heard that in awhile.” He had once before, when he started doing gymnastics the coaches told him he had potential to make it onto the Olympic team. “People don’t really see potential when they look at me.”

“Well then they aren’t looking at the real you.” He sounded genuine as he spoke. He stopped walking and faced Eggsy. “Let me be honest with you. I’ve had my eye on you since training began. Something about you pulls my attention and holds it. I know why you’re here. But that doesn’t make you any less of a fantastic soldier; or any less of a good person. You’re wonderful Eggsy, don’t let war take that from you.”

Eggsy watched as Harry turned forward and continued to walk down the path. He followed behind a few moments later, after the shock of Harry’s words had subsided. He had first met Harry while entering the station at their training camp. He had caught his eye from a distance and found that he couldn’t stop staring. Luckily Roxy had been there to fill him in. 

“That’s Harry Hart.” She said from behind him.

“Hmm?”

“The man you’re staring at.” He could hear the cheeky grin in her voice and had no reason to look back to see it. “And those men beside him are James and Alastair. And that one across from him in the kilt is Merlin.”

“Merlin? Like from the stories?”

“Yes and no. See everyone calls him Merlin, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him called by a different name. Much like you are with Eggsy.”

“Huh.” He stopped paying attention to Roxy’s words as their locked stare continued. He couldn’t help it, something radiated from that man that pulled Eggsy closer. However, it seemed that Harry had important matters to discuss; since he snapped out of the trance like state when Merlin tapped his arm. 

“You don’t have to make it so obvious,” Roxy said, mirth in her voice. He snapped his head around to face her, not liking her implication.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You don’t have to hide from me Eggsy. I know it can be dangerous. But there are some like minded people.” She placed her hand on his upper arm and squeezed his arm gently. “See you after supper.” And with that she left, a calm smile on her lips.

It was dangerous; the implication that he could fancy another man that is. It was more than frowned upon. It wasn’t illegal per se, but it could get him killed by his peers in an act of violence and the police wouldn’t bat an eye. And the worst thing about the whole situation, was that he didn’t--  _ couldn’t _ \-- deny Roxy’s statement. He wouldn’t say that he fancied Harry, but he did find his gaze wandering to him every once in awhile and he liked what he saw.

This wasn’t the first time he had found his gaze lingering on a man. The same thing had happened when he was younger; he hadn’t been more than fourteen when he first noticed that he was attracted to both men and women. He had been had been sitting near the street, playing around with a stick as people moved about. His mum had gone out to find work as a maid while Dean had left for his shift at the factory. That left him all alone to do nothing. That was until he felt someone shove at his head.

“Hey Eggsy.” He looked to see Ryan standing beside him, so he shot up to his feet as quick as he could. His smile was wide and happy. 

“Ryan! What’re you doing here?”

“I came by to show you the new move my brother taught me, bet I could beat you in fight now.” Ryan and him would always play fight. It was a great way to kill time and practice for if they ever actually had to fight. Normally Eggsy won, he was wriggly and could worm his way out of any hold Ryan put him in. But he could turn around and use brute strength to pin Ryan down.

“Well you’re gonna lose a bet.” Eggsy poked him with the stick before jogging towards the nearest alleyway. He let the stick drag on any uneven surface he passed to create noise. He didn’t get rid of the stick until they were slipping off their shirts and tossing them to the side. They always took off their shirts to mimic the older kids and professionals and to keep them clean. They didn’t really have much to show off, they were both rather scrawny and yet Eggsy’s gaze lingered on Ryan for a bit longer than normal. 

With their shirts off to the side they got low and readied themselves to fight. When the first move was made by Ryan it was obvious that neither of them had ever actually learned out to fight. Their limbs were all over the place and grasping for any hold they could manage. Before long they were on the floor coating themselves in dirt and tiny rocks. Ryan managed to get Eggsy into a headlock, but Eggsy wriggled right out and pinned Ryan down.

Their faces were flushed and slightly sweaty, their breathing was a little more laboured than usual. And Eggsy found himself staring. For a moment he lost control of his body; his eyes closed and he leaned down to try and kiss Ryan. But before his lips could touch he got a punch to the chest and Ryan wormed himself from underneath Eggsy. He ran the the shirt he had taken off earlier, tossing it on without even brushing off the small rocks stuck to his skin. 

“I-- I gotta go Eggsy.” And with that he jogged away. 

Eggsy flopped on his back with a sigh, covering his eyes with his arm. He felt so stupid. Why had he done that? How could he think that was okay? He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t be like  _ that _ he couldn’t fancy men like one of those fairies that got in trouble for liking other men. He felt ashamed and guilty. He knew what he was doing was wrong and could get him in trouble. And even then he was more concerned about losing a friend than about his pervasive thoughts.

He didn’t see Ryan for the rest of the day, though Jamal came by in the evening and offered to fight with Eggsy since he seemed down. But he refused, he didn’t feel like fighting right now. Instead they went down to the candy shop to try and haggle a few sweets out of the shop owner. They were able to get two pieces of candy for the price of one, which they considered a win since they only had enough money for one piece. Jamal left after the sun went down and Eggsy went inside to wait for his mum and Dean to come home.

The next day Eggsy waited outside. He really hoped Ryan would come by again. He hoped he hadn’t ruined anything and found himself bouncing around slightly as he waited. He kept glancing towards Ryan’s street, standing up and sitting back down to get a better look and stretch out his nervous legs. He could feel some of his anxiety leave as he saw the familiar skinny figure of Ryan walking towards him. 

“Hey Eggsy.” He said with a somewhat tight smile and Eggsy’s stomach dropped.

He swallowed thickly before speaking. “Ryan. How are y--”

“Can we talk,” Ryan interrupted, his words coming out as nothing more than a quick blur of sound. “In the alleyway. Please?”

Eggsy’s anxieties returned full force, but he nodded still. 

The walk there seemed a lot longer than any other time he went to the alleyway. It seemed like an hour had passed even though it had barely been a minute. He was holding one arm close to his body and kicking around the dirt as he walked between the two buildings. His head was hung and he was oscillating to avoid making eye contact.

“Um, Eggsy. I-- well I need to talk about what happened yesterday.”

Eggsy’s head shot up and he put his arms out in front of him to plea. “I know I’m sorry I didn’t know what I was doing I just--”

“Stop. It’s-- it’s fine.”

“What?”

Ryan shrugged, seeming more awkward in Eggsy’s confusion. Did he not hate him? “I said it’s fine. Just-- I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“What do you mean it’s fine?

“I mean it’s fine. I-- I didn’t mind it, but just-- nothing’s ever gonna come of this. I like girls.”

“Yeah, I like girls too.”

It seemed like most, if not all, of Eggsy’s nervous energy had transferred into Ryan; who had started kicking dirt.

“Well, um-- say if we wanted to practice for when we get to snog girl, yeah?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we could practice on eachother?”

Eggsy didn’t know what to say at first. He had felt so disgusted in himself for even considering to kiss his friend yesterday. And yet his friend was offering to kiss him again. Probably more than once. 

“Um, yeah.” He nodded. “I think I could use some practice.”

Eggsy’s face was warm and he was pretty sure he looked pretty similar to Ryan; whose face was a bright shade of pink. They locked eyes, both awkward and jittery with a mix of nerves and being teenagers.

“Right now?” Ryan asked. And Eggsy would’ve protested. If they were seen the consequences would be huge. But then he realized they were in the alleyway. It didn’t lead directly into the street and so it was secluded from the view of any passersby. The only people they had to worry about were the people in the building. But those windows rarely ever opened. So instead Eggsy nodded, and at his movement the space between them started to close.

Eggsy could feel the air becoming thick and could hear his own heartbeat. This was his first kiss, and it would be with his best friend. A boy.

Their lips touched and Eggsy felt his heart flutter. His eyes were shut tight and his hands slowly found their way to the others side. The kiss deepened and the rank smell of the alley slowly faded away into the smell of clean country air. He deepened the kiss ever so slightly, opening his mouth and trying to get closer to the other. He didn’t want to move to fast or push too far. He didn’t want to ruin it. So slowly he pulled back and his eyes fluttered open. He was panting softly and his face was dusted with pink. 

“Whoa.” Was all he managed to say.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago.” Harry said, just as breathless. His eyes darted down to Eggsy’s lips once more before returning to his eyes. “I’ve told you that I’ve had my eye on you since you stepped off that train haven’t I?”

“Only a couple dozen times.” Eggsy replied, his senses coming back to him. 

“Well it’s true.” Harry moved his hand from where it had been cupping Eggsy’s face to gently move a few hairs back in place. 

Eggsy could see the man’s expression, the eyes showed the love and warmth and want that Harry held for him. But his mouth had formed a thin line and his jaw tightened. He cleared his throat, taking a step back from Eggsy and straightening his suit. Eggsy wanted to be upset, he wanted to tell Harry to come back and to kiss him again. He wanted Harry to hold him close and play with his hair. But he knew that couldn’t happen. They were currently hiding out behind the training camp so they could share their first kiss. Eggsy didn’t want to leave the spot to go back and pretend like nothing had happened. But he knew he would have to.

“Apologies. But I must get back. Wait here for a few minutes before you leave. Just so that you don’t arise suspicion. 

“Yeah, wait. I gotcha.” Eggsy mumbled. He didn’t want to be disappointed, but he couldn’t help it. He really liked Harry, and it pissed him off that he was being forced to hide and sneak around like some kind of criminal. 

Like some kind of criminal? Had he already forgotten that he _ was _ a criminal? He ran a hand down his face as he remembered. How could Harry love someone who was only here in lieu of jail? He was a thief, he was scum, and he always had been. From picking pockets as a kid to full out robbery he had always been-- and will probably always be-- nothing. He had done nothing great with his life yet, he had reached his peak doing gymnastics as a kid, and he wasn’t sure that he would ever do anything of importance. He felt that no matter what he did he would always be that poor, wretched, thief from a broken home. He removed that hand from his face and looked out into the fancy, cobbled, clean road. He had a mission to do.

He looked around once before jimmying the back door open. It took a bit of muscle power, but not a lot of time. The door was open and he led him, Jamal, and Ryan into the shop. He knew for a fact that the owner had left for war, hell most of the shop owners on Saville Row had left to serve. 

He entered with practiced ease, he went straight to the till since that was the only thing of real value. Without the baker the bread shop was nothing but an empty building. Nonetheless, he had Jamal and Ryan check out the back in case they could find anything of worth. This street held some pretty wealthy people.

He was halfway through emptying the till when he heard the distinctive creaking of someone walking down an old staircase. He whipped his head to the side to see an elderly man looking at him. He cursed loudly, gathering up the money as quick as he could while the man shouted for the police. He made it to the threshold that led to the back when he heard the sound of policemen running towards the shop. Of course they would show up that quickly on this street. He motioned for them to leave and he was about to follow when he paused.

He could go out the back with Jamal and Ryan, but the police would surely follow. The old man had only seen Eggsy and he would point out where he had went. But if he acted as bait and ran in the opposite direction Jamal and Ryan might get away. 

They really needed the money. Ryan’s mum couldn’t find work and he had a good handful of siblings to feed. Jamal’s mum was sick and he couldn’t afford the medicine. He quickly handed them all the money he could.

“Are you not coming with us?” Jamal asked in a hushed tone. 

“Nah, I’m the fastest here. I’ll be the bait. I’ll run and I’ll lose ‘em. Then I’ll meet you back at the alleyway, yeah?”

“Eggsy--” Ryan said, his eyes sad and worried. He knew that the chance of Eggsy escaping was low.

“Go,” He said hurriedly, pushing them along. He waited for them the get out the back door before he looked through the threshold to the front of the shop. He could see the police approaching. He took off at a sprint, vaulting over the desk like it was nothing. When he approached the big store front windows he jumped, curling his body so that his shoulders and back took most of the impact from the glass. It shattered from the force and he went rolling into the street. The sight surprised the approaching police and they paused backing up for a split second. When Eggsy stumbled his way to his feet and took off at a sprint they immediately took chase.

Eggsy could feel that he had shards of glass in his back. They weren’t large, but they sure were annoying. He was lucky that he and spent years training in gymnastics, that kept him from getting too injured when he had first landed and meant that his athleticism was above that of a normal man. 

He could hear the police behind him, so he kept running, winding through the streets like he knew where he was going. He didn’t spend much time near Saville Row so it wasn’t long before he got lost and turned into a dead end. The wall was short enough that he could just maybe climb it with the right run up. He sped towards it, placing his foot at hip height and pushing upwards. He stretched his arms out way over his head, his fingertips brushed the top of the wall. And the entire world fell from under him when he started to fall back down without having grabbed the top. 

He landed with a thud and he instinctively bent his knees to absorb the impact. He looked back, but as he did so he was slammed against the brick wall that he had just failed to climb. The pressure forced his eyes shut and he could feel the brick crumbling into a thin layer of sand. 

People were shouting and he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He felt the blow of a stick hit him right in the lower back. He let out a cry of pain. Another blow him in right between his shoulder blades. The blows kept coming, they hit every inch of his body until he felt like he was comprised entirely of one bruise. He could feel eyes on him, the eyes of Merlin, of James and Alastair. Of Harry. He didn’t want them to see him like this, getting beaten raw by the Japanese. He knew the guilt that they felt must’ve been eating them up. He was only on the ground because he had covered for them.

When their captors had found a radio hidden in a tin can they had become furious. Since it had been found in their bunks they were gathered up front. They were beaten one by one; nothing compared to what Eggsy was going through, but beaten nonetheless.They were asked about the radio, and previously they had agreed to all deny anything to do with it if they ever got caught. They would go down together. And everyone played their part. They took the small beating and told the translator that they had no idea about the radio. That was until they reached Eggsy who they asked last. 

He thought about it. They could all be tortured until they die or break or until the war ends. Or Eggsy could stop it right here, right now. He was the youngest of everyone. He had the most life in him. He had spent his time training as a gymnast and fighting with his friends. He dealt with Dean and his goons on a daily basis. He could take a beating. He might survive. Harry and the others however were older, they were hardened and fit. But they were still older and ran the risk of a much sooner grave were they to be tortured.

When the translator, who was far more than just a translator and quite like a tormentor, looked him in the eye and asked, “where did you get that radio?” in his thick accent Eggsy responded with only a bit of hesitation.

He took a shaky breath and kept his eyes on the translator. He didn’t look over at his friends, at Harry. He knew that they knew what was about to happen. He didn’t want to see the look of sadness in the eyes of a man he just wanted to make happy. “I built it.”

“What?”   
  
“I built the radio.”

“Where did you get the parts?”

“I snuck them in from the base.”

“Who helped you.”

“No one.”

He could practically hear the sadness Harry felt. Everyone knew that if they spoke up now, after having already said they didn’t know about the radio, their captors wouldn’t believe them. Eggsy had dug himself a grave, and Harry had been forced to watch. 


	2. Chapter 2

Eggsy was shaking. He felt the nausea rising again and he was breaking out into a cold sweat. He was sat in the chair opposite Merlin, a tumbler of the whiskey he had brought held in two hands. When had he sat down? When had he grabbed the tumbler. He swallowed hard, looking down for a few seconds before looking up at Merlin. His stomach twisted at the look on his face. 

Merlin pitied him. He didn’t want to see pity in the sad old eyes of his friend. He wanted to see joy, trust. He wanted to see the mysterious look that he often wore. He sighed, downing the tumbler in one go. He grabbed the whiskey bottle and with shaking hands and refilled the tumbler. He filled it to the top even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to. He needed to get drunk now. He need to not feel. 

He downed that glass almost as quickly as the first. And before he could pour himself another he heard a door opening and closing followed by hurried footsteps. He knew who it was, only she could make footsteps sound worried and confident at the same time. 

“Hello Roxy.” His voice was flat, ashamed almost. He didn’t want her to see him like this. 

“Eggsy,” her tone was soft and soothing. She gently touched his face as she neared, couching so that she was eye level with him. “Merlin called me after you-- well after you lost it.”

Eggsy’s head snapped to Merlin, a look of betrayal on his face. “You called her!?”

Roxy answered before Merlin could. “Of course he called me! Eggsy Unwin you need me and you know it.” She breathed sharply through her nose, straightening herself out. Her words were softer. “Eggsy I’m worried about you.” She sat down on the arm of the chair and ran her hand over his hair to comfort him. “You’re having episodes again. If you don’t get better…” she trailed off. They knew what would happen. 

“I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”

“Eggsy--”

“I’m fine Rox.” He looked up at her, his eyes pleading for her to drop it. She nodded. She’d leave it for now. 

Merlin huffed, gaining their attention. “Well, you brought bread and whiskey. I say we make a night of it. I’ll go whip up some sandwiches, do you want to help me Roxanne?”

She glanced at Eggsy before nodding. She moved away from the chair and took her hand from Eggsy’s head. The lack of her hand somewhat upset Eggsy, but the most upsetting this was that he knew they’d talk about him. He waited for them to disappear into the kitchen before following. Leaving his tumbler on the coffee table. He paused before reaching the threshold to the kitchen so that he remained out of sight and listened. 

“Roxanne, he’s not getting any better.”

“I know,” she paused, sighing. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do.”

“He was doing alright for a bit.”

“He was taking sodium pentothal. That’s no way to live. He couldn’t work, he couldn’t eat. He could barely do anything.”

“Then what are we supposed to do? If he doesn’t get better he’ll be forced to go back to the hospital.”

“I don’t-- I don’t know. Maybe the hospital might be the best for him.”

“No, no, no. Try that again. You know you don’t mean that. You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you’d rather have him in the hospital. You saw what he was like there. He was no better.”

“Yeah, alright. But maybe living in the home of the dead man he loved isn’t good for him either!” She paused after that, making sure to speak more quietly. “Having all of Harry’s things near him. It can’t be good for him.”

There was a long pause and Eggsy considered heading back to his chair to think over what he had heard. But then Merlin spoke up again.

“There’s always the manor.”

The manor. Eggsy remembered the manor. He had gone there right after being released from the hospital. He had needed a quiet and peaceful place to rehabilitate. Walking the hills and valleys were a good way to rebuild the lost muscle and the fresh country air only did him good. The manor was lavish and far more expensive than what he was used to. He still thought that Harry’s place on Saville Row was rather fancy. The manor was entirely different. It felt like like a place the old Kings and Queens would vacation at. Perhaps a trip back to the manor would be good for him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had yet to clean out anything that was Harry’s from the house. All the old suits were lined up, barely touched. All the knick knacks and trinkets and decorations were exactly as he had left them. Eggsy would only browse, trying to get a glimpse into Harry’s life before Eggsy. And trying to imagine the life they could’ve had together.

He turned away from the kitchen and went back to his chair, sinking in slightly. He couldn’t shake the manor from his mind. He poured himself some more whiskey and downed it quickly. He could really feel the effects of the alcohol kicking in. 

The manor. The pristine white walls, the help, the stables, the view. It was an astounding place. Eggsy could easily remember when we first saw it. Roxy had helped him out the car and into a wheelchair. The doctor had recommended it considering his bones and muscles were still weak from malnutrition. 

He had spent a good while in the hospital but they needed to free up beds. So the second he was fully conscious and well enough to get better at home they sent him off. Roxy decided to be his live in nurse despite training as a field nurse. She couldn’t leave Eggsy’s side. When she found out that Eggsy didn’t have a home to return to because of his mother's financial struggles during the war, she offered up the manor that had been passed down hers and James’ family. She also invited Eggsy’s mum and sister to get them off the streets.

He looked up at the towering building, his face gaunt and hollow as he tilted his head back. Roxy seemed proud and she leaned down to talk into his ear. “This place is as much yours as it is mine now.” 

Eggsy couldn’t believe it. He had gone from a shitty little run down flat to a mansion that seemed bigger than his entire complex. 

He was wheeled to his room, it was on the first floor and completely empty aside from the basics. He had a poster bed with a canopy and an intricate headboard. The only thing more intricate was the design on the sheets. There was a large wardrobe in corner and a large cheval mirror beside it. He immediately turned the mirror around so that the wood back was facing him. He had gotten a glimpse of himself before turning the mirror and felt his stomach flip. He couldn’t stand the sight of himself. He was too skinny, too hollow, too dead-eyed. He looked sick, he looked tired, he looked like a walking-- or rather wheeling-- corpse. He would do anything to avoid seeing himself.

He was snapped from his memories and forced back into reality. The alcohol making it easier to keep his mind from wandering too far. From travelling too deep.

“We made ham sandwiches.” Roxy said, setting the plate down. Eggsy eyed the stack, unsure about whether or not he should take one. His stomach still felt like it was doing flips. He grabbed one slowly, picking at it and taking slow, meaningful bites. They didn’t say anything to each other, but they were all watching closely. 

“Eggsy, we have a plan.” Roxy spoke after she finished eating. “We were thinking of going back to the manor for a bit. Take a vacation, relax--”

“Hope I don’t get any crazier?”

“Eggsy.” Roxy looks concerned. “You aren’t crazy. You just have a few… problems.”

“A few problems,” Eggsy scoffed, “I can hardly tell the difference between real life or a vivid memory.”

“That’s alright-”

“It’s not alright, Rox!” Eggsy shouted, losing his temper momentarily. “It’s not.”

The silence that followed was painful. He stared at the ground, wrapping his arms around his middle and forcing himself not to cry. He had to be more composed, he had to be more stable. He can’t get so angry or tired or sad all the time. He can’t lose himself in his memories anymore. 

He kept his eyes on the floor beside his feet, but he knew that Merlin and Roxy had just shared a look of concern. Concern over him.

“You’re treating me like some fragile porcelain doll. Like I’ll shatter if you so much as touch me. Stop it. Stop doing that.”

“But Eggsy,” Roxy paused, confusion in her voice. “I thought you didn’t want me to bring it up.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore.” His voice was shaky and his face was pinched in sadness. Sometimes he wanted to pretend that he was fine, that everything was fine. And other times he wanted to be treated like an adult. He didn’t want people to act like they were walking on eggshells or to beat around the bush. “I think I need time. I think the manor would be perfect.” He was having a difficult time maintaining eye contact. He stood up, only swaying slightly. He set the tumbler on the table and retightened his robe. “Just don’t pretend it’s a holiday.” He mumbled quietly, walking to the door and making his way outside.

No one stopped him, and he was glad they didn’t. He stumbled back home, he needed sleep. Sleep was like a game of roulette. He’d either get lucky and dream of nothing, he’d fall asleep and wake up again with no memory of what had happened inside his head. Or he went into his memories, which were dark and scary places. He hoped that the whiskey pumping through his veins would mean he’d have no dreams. It was already difficult to sleep, but the thought of reliving a traumatic experience-- or multiple really-- made it that much harder.

Eggsy didn’t dream that night, which was a relief. But he also didn’t wake up feeling rested. He felt exhausted, but not like he could sleep any longer. So instead he just laid in bed, staring at the room he had committed to memory. All of Harry’s things connecting him to a life he was never able to live with the man.

He laid in bed for hours, barely moving as he let himself get consumed with thoughts of the non-existent future. Would they even have had a future considering they were two men? Perhaps they could have lived in secrecy, but that wouldn’t have ended well. He remembered the books Harry had read to him during training and early on in their deployment. In particular he remembered Anna Karenina and what had happened to her, how her own secrecy had ended her. He thought deeply, closing his eyes and trying to remember the book as best he could. Many times he had just found comfort in Harry’s voice rather than paying attention to the actual words. He heard, but didn’t listen save for a few times. Anna Karenina was one of those times.

“He soon felt that the fulfillment of his desires gave him only one grain of the mountain of happiness he had expected. This fulfillment showed him the eternal error men make in imagining that their happiness depends on the realization of their desires.”

Eggsy let his eyes flutter open as he heard Harry’s voice wane, the tell tale sign that they were done for the night. Nonetheless he looked up at Harry, pouting softly in hopes of getting read at least one more paragraph. 

“It’s getting late Eggsy, perhaps you should get some rest.” He laid a gentle hang on the boy’s shoulder and sparks shot up Eggsy’s spine in response to the touch. The feeling was wanted, desired. Far more intimate than the brief touches they shared during the day. Now they were alone, no prying eyes to judge them. No reason to have second thoughts about how they feel, as if they were wrong. And yet Eggsy did, hesitating before placing his own hand on Harry’s knee. He looked down at the hand and back up at Harry, eyes innocent and timid. He was unsure about all this. Not about how he felt for Harry, he knew what he was feeling for the older man. But instead for the sanctity of it all-- the morality. He felt sinful for just thinking about Harry as anything other than a friend, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Is it wrong?” He asked out of the blue, ignoring Harry’s comment about sleep. “Do you feel… wrong about what we’re doing? As if we shouldn’t be doing it.”

Harry was hesitant in answering him. “I know how you must feel my dear boy.” He gently brushed back Eggsy’s hair, what little there was of it. “People like us, we’ve always hit a point in our lives where we felt a certain guilt or damnation for doing what we do. But can it be so wrong if you can’t help it? How terrible must it be if it causes no one harm, but gives you joy? As long as you are happy, healthy, and cause no one trouble what offense are you making?”

Eggsy soaked in Harry’s words, running them through his mind over and over. They made him feel better about the whole situation, but he still had the nagging, gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach that reminded him of the years upon years of him being taught that such feelings between two men were immoral and amongst one of the worst atrocities of man. 

Yet how could he consider homosexuality such an atrocity and not bat an eye at the war they were currently fighting?

“You thought about this before haven’t you?”

“I’ve spent most of my life thinking about it. I don’t want you to have to do the same.” Eggsy could feel Harry’s thumb rub small circles on his shoulder and it felt calming. “Go to bed Eggsy, and tomorrow night instead of reading I want you to reintroduce yourself to a few people you’ve already met.” 

Eggsy didn’t argue because he was rather tired anyway, so instead he just nodded and left to travel to his barrack. He mulled over Harry’s words as he laid down in his cot, and they brought him to sleep. 

The next day was spent as it usually was. Eggsy and Harry had minimal contact, it was obvious that Harry was seasoned in pretending that the light touches they shared were merely accidents. Eggsy however was far less used to it, but was getting better with practice. He was excited for that night, but as he stood outside of Harry’s bunk he felt nerves run through his body. Nonetheless he opened up the door to find Harry sitting with a group of higher ranking men. These were the same men that Harry had been chatting with at the train station. 

“Eggsy, come have a seat.” Harry gestured to the open spot beside him on the cot. He did as he was told. “This is--”

“James, Alastair, and Merlin?”

“Yes,” Harry said, a smirk finding its way onto his face, “very good.”

Eggsy looked at the two men sat rather close together, they were Alastair and James. He had no clue which was which as Roxy hadn’t specified. And if she had, it had been such a long time since the train ride that he had no memory of it. The two men smiled at him and he nodded back, offering them a smile in return.

“They’re like us, Eggsy.” Harry said, drawing said man’s attention to him. “They met before the war and somehow made it all the way here together.”

One of them shrugged and spoke. “Dumb luck I guess.” He was smirking and Eggsy knew that it definitely hadn’t been just dumb luck.

“I wanted you to meet them. So you know that we’re not alone here. Even if it might seem that way. James and Alastair will be there for you, and you will be there for them. It’s not easy, but I wouldn’t give it up if it meant giving up you.”

Eggsy felt a flutter in his chest, and he reached out to grab Harry’s hand. They shared a brief smile and a look before delving into conversation. By the end of the night Eggsy still had no clue which one was James and which one was Alastair. And he hadn’t heard Merlin say a word. 

There was a sharp knocking on his door. He blinked a few times and noticed that his bedroom seemed brighter than it did before. Ever so slowly he rolled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He already knew who was at the door, he could point out her knocking anywhere. 

“Mornin’ Rox,” he said, opening the door and leaning against the door frame. He was still in his robe and slippers while Roxy was dressed to the nines. 

“Good morning Eggsy. I’m here to help you pack.” He raised her eyebrows and smiled.

“We’re heading out already?”

“We think it best that we get you away from here as soon as we can.”

Eggsy just nodded and stepped aside, allowing her to get in. He wouldn’t try to argue with her over this. He needed to leave, and if going back to the manor was the only option he had he would go. He wanted to get better, he felt more and more like a burden every day and noticed the pitying looks thrown his way by anyone who knew what he had lost.

He followed her to his room, she started to lay clothes out on the bed and Eggsy watched. He stood up to help, he didn’t want her to pack all his things for him. But the second he touched a pair of trouser to fold she shook her head and took them from him. “Go and find a suitcase alright? I have no clue where it’d be at.” 

Eggsy nodded. He had an idea of where Harry might’ve kept his suitcases. He found that his legs had a better idea than his brain and before he knew it he was pulling out a small brown suitcase that had been his father’s and now belonged to the whole family. They never went anywhere so he was bringing it with him. He unlatched the luggage clasps, opened it and looked inside. It was empty besides a few letters that were sent between his mum and dad. He gently moved the yellowing paper away and set it on his bed, grabbing a few of his undergarments. He looked at the suitcase and realized he didn’t have much to put in it, he didn’t have a lot of his own possessions. He quietly went out into the living room, picking up the photo album. They didn’t have many photos, but he was able to get a picture of his mum, Daisy, him, and Dean. 

They were all smiling in the picture, Dean was on the right, his mum was in the middle with a newborn Daisy in her arms. Eggsy was just left of her, looking as presentable as he could, with one arm around her shoulders. He slipped the photo out and took it back to his room and ripped Dean out as carefully as he could. He put the picture in a small, empty notebook to keep it safe and put it into the pocket of the suitcase. As he slipped his hand out he felt something. 

He grabbed what felt like butcher’s twine and pulled, one faded green octagonal disc came out. It was one of two identification discs, and he had a feeling he knew who they had belonged to. He set the necklace down and reached back into the pocket, feeling around until he found what he was looking for. The small red circle, a hole for string but there wasn’t any. He ran his thumb over the punched letters before pocketing both identification discs and searching for some string or fabric.

He was able to find some yarn in a box of sewing and knitting supplies in the living room. He cut off just enough, taking out the discs to tie the red to the barely green. As he stood up after putting everything away he could hear the door to Dean and his mum’s room opening. He pocketed the reconstructed identification discs and prepared for an onslaught of yelling and beating from Dean. But instead all he got was a quiet and very distraught, “Eggsy.”

He turned quickly, taking in the sight of his mother. She had been crying, she looked a mess and he could feel his chest tighten at the sight of her. He was at her side before he knew it, “Mum? You alright?” His voice was quiet and soft.

She shook her head, letting herself be wrapped in her son’s arms. She sobbed quietly as he held her. He guided them to the couch and sat down, his mum still in his arms. He quietly rubbed circles on her back, letting her cry. “Why do you have to go too?” She said quietly and Eggsy felt terrible.

After a few minutes Michelle’s sobs had died down and she pulled away. She sat there, putting a smile on her face as she wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry baby.”

“No Mum, it’s fine. Everything alright?”

Michelle took a deep breath, shaking her head again, “Your father died out there. He died protecting us. He was so sure that he would come home, he wasn’t worried, he was so calm. I don’t want that to happen to you, baby. You need to come home to me, I can’t lose you as well as Lee.” She was starting to tear up again at the thought of losing him. 

“I’ll come home, Mum, I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes. You’ll see your baby boy again, I’ll send letters and whatever I can, okay. Just so you know I’m alright. I promise, Mum, I promise.” He was tearing up himself. He hadn’t meant to, but with his mum so distraught he found himself wiping away her tears while he felt his own forming. 

For the next few hours the didn’t say much, Eggsy had turned on their radio. They had gotten it just over a year ago when they had some left over money. They only had one station-- the BBC dominated the airways-- but after listening to that that they quickly realized there wasn’t much playing. Instead he turned to the gramophone they’d had it for a good few years, Dean bought it on a whim when Eggsy was little. He put in a record, not really paying much attention to what he was putting in, but they didn’t have bad records. They had some records from just a few years ago, but they mostly had older music. Songs like Arthur Gibbs’ “Charleston”, Ted Lewis & His Band’s “When My Baby Smiles At Me”, and Gene Austin’s “Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue”. They listened for hours, every three to four minutes Eggsy would shift and change the record or just start it over. He did that until he fell asleep, next to his mum, to the sounds of quiet and soothing record static.

When he woke up Eggsy was alone on the couch with a blanket over him. His mother must’ve gotten up sometime in the middle of the night and took care of him. He stretched out, lazily rolling off the couch. It was early in the morning-- he had a tendency to wake up early to avoid Dean-- and slowly made his way to his room. He opened the door and was surprised to see his mum, asleep on his bed, his suitcase was placed neatly on the floor and the papers were held close to her heart. 

He frowned, she must’ve gone in there to grab the blanket and saw the pile of letters on his bed. He very gently removed the papers from her hand one by one and set them on his desk. He gently shook her shoulders to wake her up. He felt bad for her, she had lost the love of her life and now she could easily lose him. She would comment about how he looked more and more like Lee the older he got. Her voice was always sad and distant in a way when she said that, and it was always at random times. One time he had been changing the record of the gramophone, another time he had been playing with Daisy. He didn’t think much of it at first, but seeing her so torn up about him going off to war made him realize how hard this must be on her.

She woke up slowly, seemingly surprised that she had fallen asleep in his room. She looked at her hands, remembering that she had been looking at the letters before she spotted them on the desk. “Sorry Eggsy, I must’ve lost track of time.”

“Wanna help me finish packing?” He asked, unprompted. The thought had come to his mind, it’d give him more time with his mum and she could make sure he didn’t forget anything.

She smiled and nodded, getting off the bed slowly and smoothing down her hair. He moved the case back onto the bed and opened it. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his father’s identification discs, he paused for a moment, debating on whether he should put it in the pocket or wear it. After a few seconds he slipped the twine over his head and move on. His mum had started going through his stuff, grabbing a few things, and piling them in her hand. When he turned to face her she froze, seeing the discs hanging from his neck, and her grip on the pile tightened. 

“I forgot where I put those.” She said quietly. Eggsy reacted, quickly grabbing the necklace and pulling it of of him gently, holding it out to her. “No baby,” she said in response, a smile slipping onto her face as she pushed them back towards Eggsy. “Keep them, be proud of them.” He nodded, putting the necklace back on, and smiling at his mother.

They spent the next hour finding stuff for Eggsy to take, it started out just in Eggsy’s room, but that quickly moved out to the living room and kitchen. Daisy even wanted to help when she woke up, offering Eggsy one of her toys and he took it without complaint. He smiled at her and told her how helpful she was being. He carried her around on his hip after that. They put records on the gramophone, their hunt for items quickly turning into dancing in the living room. They were smiling and laughing together and before long the noise woke up Dean. 

Their fun ended after that, he turned the music off and told them be quiet. He sat down on the couch, turning on the radio, and the small party moved to Eggsy’s room.

The space was cramped but now they had a small pile of items for him to take. He gained a few more pictures. Two were of Lee and Michelle, another of Michelle and newborn Eggsy, and a more recent one of Eggsy holding newborn Daisy. He put them in the small notebook with the other picture for safe keeping and went through the rest of his things. He packed the small fabric doll Daisy had given him with care, making a show of how much he loved his gift to make her smile and laugh. He had a few more clothes to pack that his mum had brought over. And she had even found a few pieces of empty paper and a pencil. 

Latching the suitcase up for the last time felt official and terrifying. He was going to be leaving. He held his mother close, holding in tears that threatened to fall. He kissed Daisy on the head, running a hand through her hair. He would miss important milestones in her life. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her when he came back. 

He gathered up his bag, walking outside as slowly as he could manage. He hoped and prayed that news would come in that they had won the war-- even though it had just began-- so that he didn’t have to leave. But he received no news that day, and ever so slowly he made it outside with his suitcase in hand.

“Put it in the boot.” Roxy said, and Eggsy obeyed that order. He slid his suitcase into the boot before slamming it shut and climbing into the back with Roxy. Merlin would drive them all the way to the manor where Eggsy could take a break from life. He felt something grab his hand and he knew it was just Roxy trying to comfort him. He didn’t want to leave Harry’s home, but he did at the same time. He squeezed back, reassuring her that he’d be just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive to the manor was a long and boring one. But Eggsy didn’t mind, he had experienced enough excitement to last three lifetimes and was completely content with a little ordinary. Though he wouldn’t have minded the babbling of Daisy or his mother’s soft coos as she played with her. They had decided to stay behind so that Michelle could continue working to pay for Daisy’s education. Eggsy told her it was fine, that he could easily pay for it. But she refused, saying that she wanted to pay for it herself, to prove that she could give her children proper education. Something that she hadn’t been able to give to Eggsy. 

Eggsy had dropped out of school at an early age for a combination of reasons. The time spent at school could be dedicated to training in gymnastics, which could potentially lead him to the Olympics. He also had never been necessarily good at the disciplinary aspect of school. He loved learning and was terribly smart, but it was all problem solving instead of grammar or algorithms. And he refused to show respect to teachers who didn’t respect him. Home education was the best bet for him. The only problem was that there was no one that could educate him.

His mother had come from a poor, overcrowded family with ties to Wales. With so many siblings and little to no income Michelle had dropped out before she had barely started. She worked mainly as a maid and a caregiver before becoming a motherly figure to some of her younger siblings. She watched as her friends grew up, and listened to them talk about school like it was a burden. She always dreamed of moving to London and leaving the hellhole that was her home behind. And when she met Lee she did leave. They settled down together, Lee had come from money and could easily pay for a place in the middle of town. But his riches didn’t keep him out of the first Great War. She was pregnant when he shipped off to war. He never got to see his son. 

As an illiterate single mother in the post war economy Michelle struggled and found solace in Dean. The same reason she found him, is the same reason she was forced to stay. She relied so heavily on him that he practically owned her, and Eggsy. He could do just about anything he wanted, her desperation keeping her firmly in his grasp. 

He was gone now. His mother was learning autonomy and sustaining her own life. Perhaps it was best that she stayed in the city. That way Daisy would end up as her own person, instead of a repeat of the past and their mistakes. 

Before he realized it the car was slowing to a stop, the crunch of dirt under the tires quieting until there was silence. And it was rather silent. It was far quieter than the city, he forgot the world could be so at peace, he had been in such a haggard state his last trip here that he hadn't noticed. 

He was ushered out of the car so he walked to the boot and went to grab his bag, but before he could it was taken by a pointedly dressed man. They locked eyes and Eggsy immediately looked away, he was a servant at the manor. He had never gotten used to the idea of help, someone to pick up and clean for you. It always bothered him in thinking that he wasn’t even good enough to clean up after himself. He wasn’t doing anything with his time, why pay someone to do what you could do yourself for free? Perhaps it was his lower class way of thinking. Growing up in the household he did, with thin walls and plenty rats, he could easily pick up for himself. But here he wasn’t even allowed that slight hold on self management. 

Eventually his things were put away while he stood by idly and Roxy chatted at him. He wasn't really paying a lot of attention to her words, he was being flooded with his memories from when he had been here before. When he had been much worse than he was now. He blinked a few hard, heavy times and Roxy’s chattering disappeared. He felt a hand on his shoulder and was surprised to see Roxy there still. 

He was at the Manor, where he had been just a second ago. Roxy’s chatter had stopped out of concern and not out of a flashback. The fresh air couldn't be working already could it? Ever so slowly he reached his hand out to touch her shoulder, her mouth was moving and yet he only heard muffled speech. It felt like he was under water and he felt fear course through him. But much like he was getting pulled from the water the world came crashing back into focus and he could hear Roxy again.

He had gone nowhere but he still felt the fear and anxiety and residual sickness he would’ve normally felt had his mind left him. 

“Eggsy, Eggsy are you okay?” Roxy’s voice was very concerned, he focused on her. His voice didn't work at first, so he opened and closed his mouth a few times before anything actually came out.

“Yes, uh-- yes I just need some alcohol.” He sounded as if he had just surfaced from water. He even gave off a little cough. 

Alcohol helped. It helped a lot. Somehow it gave him a stronger grip on life and kept him, mostly, in one place. If he ever slipped too deep into his mind he'd be too inebriated to remember or notice anything. It helped so much he'd find himself spending days on end stuck in his bed leaving only to relieve himself and get more alcohol. Roxy tried to kick the habit, and it worked. But with sobriety, save for their nights where they sat around and drank away their problems, came the horrors. 

So that's why they sat around round the living room sipping cognac while Eggsy desperately scraped for any grounding in reality. His inner turmoil was seen in the way he held himself, hunched over and shaking. No words were shared, they all drank in silence with the only communication being with the concerned looks Roxy and Merlin had been sharing. 

Eggsy had finished nearly half of the decanter before his shaking stopped and he felt substantially better. He was completely smashed, but it was far better than the underwater feeling from earlier. He was grounded in reality for now, and slept soundly in his bed at the manor that night. He didn't remember any dreams, which was all he could’ve wish for. 

He woke up the next day late with a mild headache. He hadn't been woken for breakfast, so he assumed it wasn't being served. Perhaps they'd eat brunch together. He made his way to the kitchen, letting his hand trail on the old walls. His mother would've told him off for dirtying up the clean walls. He laughed to himself at the thought, his hands would do no harm to the walls in his old home and yet his mother still fussed about it. 

Before he walked through the threshold into the kitchen he heard tisking from behind him. He turned around sharply, freezing in his spot. Time felt slowed down as he looked disbelievingly at Harry. He stood, pristine as he did in his coat that day at the train station, his arms behind his back in a very regal manor. 

“That’s rather childish, isn't it Eggsy my boy?” Harry looked pointedly at the fingertips still poised on the wall. And Eggsy’s hand shot down to his side. He grabbed a large section of his robe and balled it up in his hand. Why was Harry here, in the manor, a place Eggsy had never seen him before?

“I expected more maturity from a killer like you.” Harry spoke to him in a harsh tone and Eggsy’s throat went dry. 

“I-- I didn't kill anybody.” 

“Did you not? What about all those Japanese soldiers? What about James and Alastair? What. About. Me?” Each word was punctuated with a step closer towards Eggsy. He felt his throat close up and his hands shake uncontrollably. 

He backed up into the kitchen, turning sharply to grab a knife from the block. He held it out in front of him, in hopes of maintaining distance between them. He knew this Harry wasn't real, but the knowledge did nothing to dissuade his fears. 

“Are you going to kill me again?” Harry said mockingly and Eggsy felt bile rise to his throat.

“Just-- just back off yeah? Back off.”

“Or what?” He took one more step towards Eggsy and the younger boy took off running out the kitchen door leading to the garden. He was hit with a wave of heat and humidity the second he stepped outside and he could feel mosquitoes nipping at his skin.

He was surrounded by tan, with patches of lush rainforest green. The most haunting images were the Japanese soldiers surrounding him, and when he turned around to see if Harry was still following his heart tightened at the site of a haggard and dirty old man, body covered in dirt and blood and sweat. Eyes sunken in with exhaustion and old age. They were situated in the pit, where Eggsy had toiled in building the railroad before he proved himself intelligent enough to build machinery with the rest of his lot. And where he last saw Harry thrown into as he was dragged away for questioning. Or more aptly named, torture. 

They held a gun to Harry’s head, he was on his knees with his head bowed slightly. His eyes were practically dead already. Eggsy could do nothing as the voices of a Japanese soldiers shouted indistinguishably. His breath quickened out of fear. He knew what was going to happen next. He could hear Merlin’s voice in the back of his head.

“He’s-- he’s gone Eggsy.” Merlin explained as the younger boy looked around excitedly, and yet also exhaustedly, for the man he had loved. 

“What? No, no. Merlin he-- he can't be he can't be!” He voice grew louder in desperation. “We were supposed to make it out of this together!”

“Eggsy please--”

“No!” Eggsy shouted, grasping onto Merlin’s shirt to steady himself. “No you're wrong! He's alive! He has to be.” He rocked into Merlin a few times rather hard, practically punching him in the chest, before leaning into him and sobbing. Merlin held him close, the first time he had given him anything more than a pat on the back. The picture would've seemed a little odd if they weren't currently in a hospital full of wounded soldiers and survivors reuniting with family.

“How did it happen?” Eggsy said, his voice muffled by the shirt.

“Eggsy--”

“Merlin please,” his voice was quiet and desperate.

Merlin rubbed his back a few more times before sighing. “He was working too slow, he kept collapsing and was no use to them. He damn near died of exhaustion but--” he paused, holding Eggsy tighter, “they shot him before he did.”

The gunshot rang clear in the air and Harry collapsed dead in front of him. 

And he did the best thing he could do. He ran. He pushed through the crowd of Japanese soldiers as the falsified memory and reality blended together. He ran to the stable, a place that had not been present whilst building the railroad, and curled up in a very back of an empty stall. He held the kitchen knife in front of him, but he was shaking so violently all his concentration went into keeping it in his hand. 

He heard footsteps approaching and he knew it had to be a Japanese soldier, perhaps his tormentor. This time he had a weapon, he could defend himself. As the footsteps grew louder he scooted silently towards the stall doors, the knife still held an arm's length in front of him. When the footsteps were close enough he burst from the stall doors and slashed. And he swore he saw a Japanese soldier, but like smoke it blew away to reveal Roxy with her hands covering her face and a long gash along the length on her arm.

Eggsy’s hands fell to his side as he watched the blood on her arms well up and drip to the stall floor. He dropped the knife, not realizing he had let go until he heard the clatter on a ground. He looked down in surprise and immediately regretted it as some blood was still on the blade. Roxy’s blood, blood he had drawn. 

He looked back up at her in shock. Unbelieving that he had done that. Had she even made a sound? He stared at her bleeding arm, his breath quick, for what felt like ages. He was too afraid to move even as she lowered her arms with a wince, her brows knitted together in pain, or was that worry?

“Eggsy?” She tried gently, but he just shook his head and ran off, out the stable, through the garden, and into the manor where he wretched inside a toilet.

What was wrong with him? He was shaking uncontrollably, his hands slipping from the porcelain bowl as he dry heaved. He was crying, but he hadn't even felt the tears well up. That had felt so real, so genuine and true. It had been different from his memories, it had been some sort of fabrication of things he had never seen. Like a nightmare, but in real life. He couldn't trust himself anymore, he didn't know what was real or not.

He wanted to go home, back to Savile Row to hide away in Harry’s house. The Manor wasn't working, the fresh air wasn't working. It was far easier to deal with memories than with fabrications. At least he knew what to expect.

He rested his head on the toilet bowl, the cool porcelain helping to calm him. But it wasn’t long before his own body heat warmed it up and he was back to being a sweaty mess. He blinked, his vision blurring as he thought about Harry’s home on Savile Row. He realized that the reason his vision was blurring was because of tears. He lifted his head from the bowl and batted at his eyes uselessly.

“It’s yours.” Roxy said cheerfully, squeezing Eggsy’s hand reassuringly.

“No, Rox I can’t-- I can’t just--”

“No, you’re not arguing with me. It’s too late, the place is yours legally.” She walked inside, tugging Eggsy along. She was mindful of his weak stature and the cane he had to use to walk. He had gotten considerably better after being rescued from the camp, and after spending the better half of a year rehabilitating in the manor he could walk and move almost freely. “It was Harry’s, Merlin thought it would be best if you had it.” She explained softly, the somber tone clear in her voice. 

“Harry’s,” he parroted, looking around in amazement. It made everything far more important and worthwhile. Harry’s walls told a story, every photo and knick knack was a major point of interest. He would consider every stain a novel in it’s own right, but the house seemed immaculately clean. “How is it mine?” He was sure that Harry couldn’t have written it into his will at the camp.

“Everything’s owned my Merlin, now.” Roxy said, looking around the house herself. “They made a complicated series of wills that would transfer their properties between them. If there was to be one last living person, the properties would go to them. Merlin was the last one. Then I’m next, and you are too.”

Eggsy understood, for the most part. It would keep their section of Savile Row between them. A sort of insurance that their businesses would end up in the right hands. Merlin must’ve written him into it for Harry’s home and business to be officially his. He didn’t like the idea of owning a business, he had no idea how to tailor. But he’d bring that up later. Roxy had inherited the bakery across the street; she already knew how to bake and had her uncle’s bakers hands to match. She was up and coming, a woman in post war Britain running her own business. Of course it would be Roxanne.

Eggsy wondered why he couldn’t be like that. Why he couldn’t adapt to this world as well as she did. He wanted to be productive and helpful, but he was stuck with his own nightmares and memories chaining him down. He was trapped-- stuck-- in this particular time and place, and he couldn’t find his way out. He felt pathetic, he wanted to move on so why couldn’t he. His body became physically well, or at least it mostly did; most of his meals left his body before they were digested. Why couldn’t his mind match his body? It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t a total mess either.

“My mum can move in, yeah. And my little sister?”

Roxy nodded, a smile on her face. “Yes, of course.”

His mother had been hopping around for the past few years. Dean had been her everything, he was the main source of income and was the only reason Michelle wasn't still on the streets. Dean was conscripted not long after Eggsy went away for war. He died within his second month. Eggsy felt no pity for the man, and felt no sorrow at his death. His mother resorted to cleaning houses to pay for food and to take care of Daisy. But with how shit the economy had been she could barely get work. She couldn't afford the flat and was out on the streets. Eggsy had invited her to the manor the second she contacted him. 

“I’ll take it, then.” He paused, not knowing what to say. “I don’t have anything to move in.”

“I guessed as much,” Roxy gave a little laugh as she spoke. She knew that Eggsy had never had much before the war, and had nothing after. Nothing, sans them. “Don’t worry, it’s already furnished.”

Furnished with Harry’s things no doubt. “Thank you,” he said after a moment's pause. His voice was quiet and reserved, but genuine all the same time. He ducked his head, the offer was genuine and kind and embarrassed him slightly. He had never expected to ever live anywhere other than his rundown flat, let alone a nice house in a posh area. 

He never expected to get out of the Prisoner of War camp either.

“Look at me.” A voice with a thick accent spoke. The cadence was unlike English, but Eggsy understood and looked up. 

He saw the man, his tormentor, standing in front of him. He was the translator for the prisoners. He stared at Eggsy, looking into his eyes. And Eggsy stared back, steeling himself with this act of defiance. 

The man broke eye contact to look at the rest of the men lined up: Merlin, Harry, Alastair, James, as well as Eggsy. 

“Who built this?” He held up the little radio they had built. Well Merlin had mostly built with the help of everyone. Eggsy was mostly the smuggler, with his fantastic sleight of hand. But he wasn’t the brains behind the operation. The radio only had a receiver, they could only listen to news and information to keep their spirits up about their hopeful rescue. Most of the parts had been from before they had been captured, and it had taken a while to piece everything together. They had agreed, in that time it took to make it, that they would never rat eachother out. They would stay silent and stand strong, taking whatever punishments they received for their silence. “Who is the spy.”

“No one’s a fucking spy.” If Eggsy had trouble with anything, it was keeping his mouth shut. “We can’t send out anything with that.” He was starting to regret speaking as the man approached him quickly. 

“The kid’s right.” James spoke up, distracting the Japanese man. “As you can see there’s no transmitter.” 

The man stopped, giving Eggsy a hard look before shouting at the other soldiers in Japanese. They attacked James, pushing him to the ground and beating on him with their sticks. His shouts were painful to listen to, and he could practically feel Alastair struggling to maintain his composure as his lover was beaten mercifully. Even Eggsy found himself flinching every time he heard the thud of the stick against James back.

The translator, their tormentor, stepped away from Eggsy to near James, leaning down to ask him. “You know so much. Did you build this. Are you the spy?” There was no answer. “Tell us who it is. Or we will beat it out of everyone.”

Eggsy took the opportunity to step up and out of the line. “It was me!”

The world seemed to stop at that moment. Eggsy didn’t know why he had done that. Why he had admitted to doing something he hadn’t done? But the attack on James had stopped and the only sounds were the downed man’s heavy breathing. Eggsy felt fear crawl up from his belly and into his throat. But he held his head high like a soldier. He was the youngest out of everyone lined up. He could take a beating, he’s had plenty of practice with Dean.

The Japanese soldiers approached him, and Eggsy dared not look at them. He stared forward, he could practically feel the worry coming from the others lined up behind him. His friends. This wasn’t the plan. 

“What did you say?”

“It was m--” He was cut off when a blunt object collided with the back of his skull. He lurched forward and fell to the ground, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He laid on the ground, dazed and unable to move. He felt the blunt object, the sticks they held, collide with his back over and over again. He was wheezing and he couldn’t seem to take a breath. His mouth was opened and he let out muted cries, the thudding keeping the sound from leaving his throat. 

He heard something to the side of him that made everyone stop. He took the break in his beating to breathe. He sucked in air and coughed because it was too fast. 

“It wasn’t him.” The voice was weak and raspy. It was James. Eggsy opened an eye to see James stumbling to his feet. “He didn’t build that radio.” He spat some blood onto the ground and smirked. 

Eggsy didn’t know a lot about James, but he did know he had worked for Alastair in a bakery before they fell in love, and out, and back in. James was tough, having worked multiple jobs before settling down. He knew how to lift and carry, all whilst remaining composed.

“It wasn’t hi--” A shot rang out and ended James sentence right there. For the second time that day, the world stood still as James shirt gained a steadily growing red stain. He fell to his knees. His hand grasping his chest as he started to cough up blood. He felt himself getting lifted to his feet, but he couldn’t care less. His eyes were locked on James’ still form and all his ears could pick up were Alastair’s quiet ‘no’s. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. James couldn’t be dead. He received a quick blow to the back of his head and blacked out instantly.

He heard his name being called.

“Eggsy.” The voice was soft and kind. It was Roxy. “Eggsy, do you want breakfast?” He opened his eyes. They were stiff from a long nights rest. He looked towards Roxy, she was peeking her head through the door, her bandaged arm was holding the door. So that was real. He had hurt Roxy. 

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get up. Get some breakfast.”

Roxy nodded. She seemed unaffected by the cut on her arm and the fact that Eggsy was the one to have put it there. “Meet you downstairs.”

Eggsy nodded and watched her close the door. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before slipping out of his bed. He slowly put on his slippers and a robe. He felt nausea as he looked at the door where Roxy had just been. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to face them again, not after what he had done to Roxy. But his feet found their way to his door anyway. They found their way down to the dining area where Merlin and Roxy were without Eggsy even realizing it. He was sat down with a plate in front of him, he hadn’t even been conscious of the walk to the table. 

“Good morning Eggsy.”

“Good morning Merlin.”

It felt like his body was on autopilot as he talked with Merlin and Roxy and ate his breakfast. He didn’t feel like he was actually there, but instead that he was standing a few feet away watching himself act relatively normal. It was weird and disconnecting and stressful all at once. He could hear words, but not understand them. He wanted to be present and apart of the conversation and in his body.

“James and Alastair.” He said,  he was back in his body. He was back in control. But the conversation around the table had stopped abruptly. He looked at Roxy, she seemed a little stressed and worried by his words. He felt a little pride that he had broken her calm and collected air, but also guilt for the same reason. He didn’t want to be the only one visibly suffering, but he also didn’t want his friends to suffer. “How did they meet?”

“What?” Roxy responded, turning to her mostly finished breakfast and pushing it around with her fork. 

“How did they meet? We never talked about it much during the war.”

“Well, um,” she turned towards Merlin, seemingly unsure about whether or not she should speak about it. “At-- at Alastair’s bakery.”

Eggsy wanted more. He wanted something to focus on. So he looked at Roxy expectantly until she continued speaking.

“Um, James was working as an assistant for... Merlin. At first. Going wherever Merlin told him to, and doing whatever Merlin told him to. And Alastair needed some help one day, so he sent James to help him. And he did. And he started working at the bakery more and more, and then I came along. Alastair’s sister had passed-- my mum. And so Alastair took me in. He raised me-- they raised me. Ever since I was little.” Roxy explained tentatively. She was holding back, but he didn’t know if that was because she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, or herself uncomfortable. Despite hating to have them watch their language around him, he didn’t push it any further.

“Alright,” he said, going back to eating. Within a few moments he placed his fork down and looked up at the other two. “I want to start medication.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You what?”

“I want to start medication. Again.” He looked up at Roxy and Merlin, he was serious about that.

“Eggsy, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Roxy said, speaking calmly and carefully. As if a single word might set him off.

“That is why! That is why I want to start it again. You act like-- like I’m delicate. Like you’re afraid that I’ll break if you speak to me like a normal person.”

“That’s not true.” It was Merlin now, which surprised Eggsy. Normally, he let Roxy take care of it. “And how would medication help you. It didn’t before.”

“My flashbacks weren’t as bad. I was here.”

“Were you?” Merlin had a point. He had been out of it. Not in the flashback way, but in the way that he didn’t want to move or talk or do anything besides sleep. 

“You can’t start it again.” It was Roxy, speaking as a medical professional. “Not after what happened last time.”

“There aren’t any new medications that can fix this? Stop it?”

“This conversation is over Eggsy, and the answer is no.” Roxy was getting worked up, he had a feeling that her sudden break in tender nurse niceties had been caused by forcing her to remember her dead foster fathers.

“It is not over. I am an adult, I can make these decisions myself!”

“As your nurse, I refuse!”

“I need medication! I’m useless! I need  _ something _ !”

“Medicine is not it!”

“I hurt you!”

“You tried to kill yourself!”

He stopped. A knot forming in his throat. Roxy was crying and Merlin looked concerned. Those events were like a distant dream. They were foggy and cloudy. But he could remember if he tried.

His pills had numbed him, but they kept some of his flashbacks at bay. But honestly, he couldn’t tell what was worse. He was never fully there no matter what he did. And after about a few weeks of being practically brain dead he had had enough. He emptied out the rest of his pills into his hand, some had clattered to the floor and landed next to the few small strands of hair that had fallen out due to stress and his own pulling. His stomach was empty and he hadn’t been able to keep anything down for three days. He hadn’t been able to sleep for the past few nights. He just stared at the ceiling or had nightmarish flashbacks. He was stuck in hell and he had no escape. But this was Harry’s place-- Harry’s bathroom. And he had some semblance of comfort knowing that the man he had loved had lived here. 

He filled up a glass meant for rinsing out his mouth with water from the bathroom sink. His hands were shaking violently and both water and pills had clattered to the floor. There was still a small mound in his hand though, there was still enough. He took a few deeps breaths and felt tears run down his eyes. He needed this. His life was a nightmare and the only way to wake up from it was to die. He tilted his head back and dropped all the pills into his mouth. The strong taste of chemicals hit his tongue and he chased it with the glass of partially fully water. It hurt his throat a little to swallow all of those pills, but it wouldn’t matter soon enough. He set the glass on the ground and closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. But within a few quick moments Roxy came bursting through the bathroom door. He didn’t know how she knew to come here, or what had tipped her off. But she was there. Within the matter of seconds his head was over the toilet with Roxy’s fingers down his throat. He swore he could hear her sobbing as he coughed and sputtered and threw up. She kept her fingers down his throat, forcing him to vomit, until his stomach ached and he was crying himself. Until the only thing that came up was bitter tasting bile. She let him go and her fingers left his mouth. He coughed for a solid minute before he sat back from the toilet. He looked at Roxy to find her sobbing into her wrists.

“Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid _ , Eggsy!” She struck his arm, with her vomit hand. And he stared at her blankly. But then she pulled him into a hug and held him tightly. As if he’d disappear if she didn’t hold tight enough. She sobbed into his shoulder. “Why would you do this. Eggsy, why?” she continued mumbling into his shoulder for a solid ten minutes.

For the next three weeks Roxy didn’t let Eggsy out of her sight and got him off that medication as quickly as possible. After that, he was off all medication entirely and he was thrust back into the world of flashbacks and anxiety and pain. But he was alive.

“I won’t let that happen again.” Roxy said, she looked at him with pleading eyes. Her breakfast completely forgotten

He blinked his eyes rapidly. “I need it Rox. I can’t live like this.” 

She wiped her eyes. Shaking her head.

“What if you keep my medication? What if you give it to me and keep it so I can’t-- it doesn’t happen again.”

She was hesitant. “I don’t want to put you in that situation again.”

“You won’t Rox, I promise.” Eggsy pleaded, receiving no response. “Please.”

Roxy stood, “I’ll think about it.” It was said quick and tight. She placed her napkin on the table and turned towards Merlin. “I’m going to take a walk.” It sounded like she was trying not to cry. With quick steps she left the kitchen and went out to the garden. She walked out of sight. 

“Well, that went well.” Merlin sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. He looked at Eggsy seriously for a moment, and Eggsy looked back at him incredulously. “Are you serious? About medication?” 

“Yeah,” Eggsy responded, nodding. “I’m tired. I-- I hurt Rox. I can’t do that again.”

“You’d rather sleep all day then have flashbacks?"

Eggsy nodded again. To which Merlin responded with a sigh. 

“I’ll talk to her then.”

“Thank you, Merlin.” 

“Don’t thank me, yet.” Merlin stood from the table, grabbing his coffee and leaving his plate. No one really had much of an appetite for breakfast anymore it seemed. Eggsy waited for Merlin to leave the room to go who knows where in the mansion before getting up himself. He felt tired despite having just woken up. He wanted more sleep. 

He walked back to his room and laid down. His slippers and robe were ditched on the ground and he got comfortable on the bed. He closed his eye, shifting a bit. He felt an arm drape over him and warm breath on his neck. He felt content and happy. The thumb belonging to the arm rubbed tiny circles into the back of his hand and he smiled. 

“Could you imagine doing this at home?” Eggsy asked quietly.

Harry hummed. “I feel at home now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you, Eggsy.” He paused, and Eggsy could feel him shift slightly behind him. He felt a kiss land on his neck and he hummed in response. “Home is a feeling. I feel perfectly at home with you.”

Eggsy turned around in the tiny cot to face Harry, sadly ending the neck kisses. But he wanted to look the man he loved in the face. “You know what I mean.” The sentiment of being called Harry’s home was nice, and it made his chest swell with warmth and pride and  _ love _ . But that wasn’t why he had brought up the scenario in the first place. “Imagine being together, after the war. After we win and can go home. Back to London and start a life all our own. In secret of course. But what happens behind closed doors... We could lay in bed all night, without our friends keeping watch.”

Alastair, James, and Merlin were placed close by. They were playing cards or reading books, ready to intercept someone if they got too close. They would do the same for James and Alastair when they wanted some privacy. As for Merlin, he didn’t seem to have a current motive for helping besides that he had nothing better to do. But everyone was positive that he would come to them eventually for something that they wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Harry hummed again, and Eggsy made sure to feel the vibrations. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice.” Eggsy said, lacing his fingers with Harry’s. “Just imagine it.”

“It would be nice, but imagining it will do nothing but depress you, my boy.” Harry seemed sincere. “And I don’t want to see you like that.”

“Then I won’t imagine. I’ll just do this.” He kissed Harry on the lips before he could respond. It was passionate and heated and desperate. It was a kiss of two lovers who had been forced to hide it for days. Their hands unlaced, Eggsy’s went to Harry’s head and Harry’s went to Eggsy’s waist. Eggsy felt tugging on his waist and followed it. Harry had pulled Eggsy over him. It broke the kiss, but Eggsy quickly started the kiss again.

They stayed like that for a few moments as things got progressively more heated. Eggsy pulled away slightly. “How long have we got?”

“About seven minutes.” Harry responded after a bit of thought. 

“That’s enough time.” He quickly resumed the kiss.

After their seven minutes were up Harry left first, and then a few minutes later Eggsy did. He could see the looks on James and Alastair’s faces. They knew exactly what had just happened. He didn’t talk to them for at least two days out of embarrassment.

He woke feeling melancholic. The memory had been happy, but everyone was dead now. It was bittersweet. He sighed. He had been asleep for a while, and he couldn’t sleep anymore. But he didn’t want to get out of bed. He shifted onto his side and froze.

Standing in the doorway was Harry.

“Hello, Eggsy my boy.” His voice sounded strange, like there was something stuck in his throat. But it still struck fear inside of Eggsy’s heart. Harry stepped closer, he looked pale and sickly. His eyes were sunken in and dark. He looked like a ghost, or a dead man walking. He leaned down close to Eggsy and spoke again. “Do you feel guilty?”

Eggsy didn’t respond. The sunken features terrified him.

“Answer me!” Harry screamed. It seemed animalistic and inhuman.

“Yes! Yes!” Eggsy choked out through fear.

Harry smiled, and Eggsy could see that his teeth were red from blood. It slowly dripped down his chin and onto the floor. Eggsy felt fear crawling up his arms. He wanted to get away from this Harry. But before he could even move the hallucination disappeared in an explosion of blood.

What Eggsy saw caused him to scream. He was covered in Harry’s blood, he could feel it dripping off his face and seeping through his clothes. He screamed bloody murder and he clawed at the blood. He was hyperventilating and crying and screaming without ever meaning to. 

He could see Roxy and Merlin bursting through the blood soaked door, but he wasn’t aware of it. He could feel Roxy and Merlin pulling his arms away from his face as he tried to wipe of the blood. But that didn’t stop him from trying. It took a few minutes of struggling before he was pinned to the bed and forced to respond. To tell them that the room was covered in Harry’s blood. That Harry had been here. 

Within three days he was back on medication.

His world was numb and desaturated. It was full of unconsciousness and half-consciousness. It was full of short, clipped sentences and bland meals. He sat and stared, he spoke without knowing what he even said, he laid in bed and didn’t even know if he dreamed. Roxy would come with the pills, he’d take them, and then she’d leave. Days blurred together, and he knew he did stuff. But he couldn’t be bothered trying to figure out whatever it was he was doing. To him, it was all the same as if he had just laid in bed all day.

The flashbacks weren’t gone, but they were less frequent and he couldn’t seem to care when they happened. They were just memories, but the experiences were dull. As if they were being slowly contaminated by the medicine. His world felt monochromatic. And that color was a desaturated blue. 

He was sitting on the porch watching the fields and horses absently when he felt a presence to the side of him. He turned his head slowly, as if he were underwater, and saw Harry. He didn’t act surprised or seem surprised. 

He wasn’t the real Harry, not with the ghostly pale skin and sunken features. But he was the only thing that wasn’t tinted in blue. He had more color. He’d call the imposter Hart, since he never called Harry that unless it was for show around other soldiers. Hart seemed appropriate, it seemed more formal and serious. It was more disconnected. He loved Harry, but he was curious about Hart.

They stared at each other silently for at least a few minutes before Hart stepped closer. With every step Hart took his smile grew wider. Eggsy stared, his facial expression unchanging

“I’m not afraid of you anymore.” Eggsy said.

“Clever boy,” his voice sounded dangerous and slightly inhuman.

“I know you’re not Harry.”

Hart quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, but I am.”

Eggsy didn’t respond, instead he looked forward, back towards the fields.

“Are you enjoying this life?” Hart asked. He refused to leave Eggsy alone.

“I don’t hurt anyone.”

“You’ve only hurt someone when I was around.” Hart appeared in Eggsy’s line of sight. He refused to look into those sunken eyes. “What does that mean for this medication? Because I’m still here.”

“I need it.” It was tough to keep his resolve. He could feel colors bleeding through. The shades of blue were melting away into other colors that matched Hart. Life was speeding up. It felt like he was waking up and the sound was unbearably loud. 

“Eggsy,” He turned towards Roxy’s voice and everything went quiet. The world was losing color again. “I have your medicine.”

He could see Hart in the corner of his eye. He looked threatening and serious. “I’ll see you again.”

Eggsy didn’t respond. Instead he just took his medicine as he was instructed. He knew he would be seeing Hart again, but for now he’d enjoy the unthinking bliss as he floated in an ocean of desaturated, blue fuzz.

The next time he saw Hart was at night. He didn’t know how long it had been since they’d seen each other. It could’ve been hours or days or weeks. He was having trouble sleeping, he usually couldn’t tell when he fell asleep and woke up. It was mostly a blur. He turned his head when he felt Hart’s presence. He was sitting on Eggsy’s bed, watching him with those big sunken eyes. They stared at each other for a few minutes, like they had before. 

“You don’t seem happy with this life.”

“I don’t hurt people.”

“You keep bringing that up.”

Eggsy didn’t respond. He just turned back to stare at the ceiling.

“You’re suffering. No matter what you do. You take medicine, you turn into nothing more than a decorative plant. You don’t take medicine, and you’re nothing more than a violent, decorative plant. You’re useless either way. Only there to require attention and water.”

“Please leave me alone.” Colors were coming back, and everything was growing louder. 

“You can’t get rid of me now.”

“Why is it wearing off now?” Eggsy was growing desperate. Normally, his medicine lasted far longer than this. 

“Because you only took half a dose.”

“No, I-- I didn’t. Why would I do that?” Everything was growing louder and he covered his ears. It was no help.

“Because I told you you to. I had you break it in half and hide a bit of it under your tongue.

“No, no-- I’d remember that! I don’t remember talking to you!” Eggsy squeezed his eyes shut

“Oh, you don’t remember a lot of things. We’ve had plenty of meetings. I’ve had you do plenty of things.

Eggsy felt a panic attack coming. He couldn’t remember. The medicine made his memory foggy, he knew that, but he couldn’t remember a single meeting with Hart besides the first one. He started hyperventilating. What had he done? How many days had it been? He threw himself out of bed, standing up on wobbly knees and awkwardly pacing. He needed to move and breathe and get a hold on the extra colors and sounds. He fell to his knees after a bit and breathed heavily towards the floor. 

“You know, you can fix this now?” Eggsy wasn’t confused at all. He knew what Hart meant without even needing to ask. It was as if they had talked about it before, which they probably had.

Eggsy stood, feeling a bit of calm wash over him. His breathing slowed, but his hands still shook. He steadily creeped through the manor. Each step was purposeful and got him close to his goal: the locked cabinet where Roxy held his medicine. Hart was behind him always, watching him and telling him what to do. Colors were bleeding through and fading like waves in the ocean. The sounds grew into a deafening roar that hurt his ears. He wanted it to stop, but he didn’t want to trade it in for constant flashbacks. 

He was in front of the cabinet. The lock was a padlock that required a key that Roxy kept on her person. He stared at it, the noise getting louder, the colors getting stronger. He needed it. He needed the pills. 

He grabbed the padlock in both hands and pulled. The cabinet rattled, but the sound was drowned out by the roar in his head. Hart stood to his side, he looked approving. 

“Harder Eggsy! You have to try harder!”

“I’m trying Harry.”

He felt sweat dripping down his face as the hot, tropical sun beat down on him. He was attempting to pull a wheelbarrow with a wonky wheel out of some mud. If he didn’t keep moving that would mean very bad things for him. But he was tired, and hungry, and thirsty, and hot. He was running low on energy, but he needed to prove his usefulness. If he didn’t, he could get beat to death. A handful of men had already died after being beaten, plenty more had died from infection, disease, starvation, and exhaustion. He needed to be useful and active despite the malnourishment and fatigue. 

The wheelbarrow was still stuck and he was straining. He heard tools clatter to the ground and the load he was pulling became easier. Harry had dropped what he was doing to help Eggsy. Together they were able to get the wheelbarrow unstuck and moving again. It was still heavy and very wonky, but it was moving and working again. 

“Go Eggsy, hurry. We still have six hours left today.”

Six hours left. Eggsy nodded, hurrying off with the wheelbarrow. The Japanese had them working eighteen hours a day hammering away at a rock in Thailand. Normally there were a few different areas of work. There were people to clear out areas for the rails, people to lay them, people to check them, and people who worked specifically for the officers. That was the dream job. However, the issue here was that there were so few supplies coming into Hellfire’s Pass, the name of the rocky shitehole they were currently digging out, that there was nothing to do besides dig. No one was laying tracks or checking them, everyone was clearing the way. Even the people who usually worked for the Japanese officers: Harry, Merlin, and Alastair, we're digging out the rock.

He had the job of clearing the pieces of rock today. He resituated the wheelbarrow so that he was pushing it instead of pulling, he had only started pulling it when it got stuck, and continued on his way down the path to where he had been told to dump the rocks. 

“Eggsy?” Roxy’s voice stopped the memory and the noise all at once. His hands were on the lock, but his eyes were distant. He blinked a few times and slowly turned towards Roxy, his hands still on the lock. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” He said after a brief pause. He put his hands down, shaking his head. “I’m not... sure.”

Roxy took a step closer. “Are you alright.”

“I’m fine.” He turned around to walk away, but stopped. He turned back towards Roxy and noticed that she was way closer than before. She was going to stop him from leaving. “Um, actually. I need another dose.” The noise was coming back and Hart was just behind him. And he was mad. 

“Why?   


“I-- I didn’t take the whole dose before. I only took half, and it’s worn off and they’re back and I need them gone.”

“Why would you do that?” Roxy said as she fished the key from her robe. She unlocked the cabinet and pulled out the pill bottle. 

“I... don’t know.” He didn’t fully know. He knew that Hart had apparently told him. But he couldn’t tell Roxy that, he’d get admitted to a hospital that second. 

Roxy took a pill and held it up for him to bite in half. He did so obediently and dry swallowed the half. He could only hear screaming and yelling and Hart’s anger, he wanted to hide but he couldn’t. He knew it would be over soon, but it was still torturous. 

His dose was increased after that. And he spent two weeks without seeing Hart. Or at least he assumed he hadn’t seen him. He couldn’t be sure after what had happened before. He knew it had been two weeks because he had decided to keep a calendar. He had asked for one to be put in his room and he made sure to mark off every day as he was called to breakfast. It helped to ground him. 

“You can’t get rid of me.” Eggsy couldn’t ignore the voice that had come out of nowhere no matter how hard he tried. “No matter what medication you take, I will come back. And I will remind you that you were not there when Harry died. He was older, he was weaker, and you weren’t there to protect him. You went to the hell hole, but he’s the one who ended up dead. You must hate yourself for it.”

“Why do you do this to me?” Eggsy asked, refusing to look in Hart’s sunken eyes.

“Because you want this.” Hart said, and Eggsy finally snuck a glance at him. “I’m a manifestation of your guilt. And you want to be reminded everyday why you’re guilty.

“But I don’t want you.” 

“Well, I only exist with you. If you truly want to stop this. Than you know what to do.” And he did. Hart only existed in his mind. If he was dead, than there was no hallucination to haunt him. The pills weren’t working, Hart would always find a way to him. He wished he could down all those pills and give them some use, only if he took them all at once could he stop Hart permanently. 

But the pills weren’t an option. He couldn’t get the cabinet open before and Roxy had become even more serious about keeping the medication away from him. But the kitchen was stocked full of sharp knives and dangerous tools. There were plenty of things he could use as rope, and not to mention what could be inside the stable and tool shed. 

He had a lot of options if he was creative enough. But he didn’t think he’d be able to do any of it, or at least he didn’t think he could do most of them.

“I don’t want to do it.”

“You say that, but do you mean it?” Hart sounded louder now, he felt closer. “You’re a liar Eggsy, you always have been. You’re a criminal, a thief, scum. I don’t know what Harry saw in you.”

Eggsy glared into Hart’s harsh, sunken, dead eyes. “Don’t bring him into this,” he growled.

“Why not? This is about him, isn’t it? It’s about how he died and you survived. It’s about how you weren’t there with him. It’s about how you are nothing compared to him, and yet you’re here in place of him. It’s about how you messed up and got separated from him by claiming that radio was yours!”

“If I didn’t he would’ve been tortured with me!” Eggsy could feel tears building behind his eyes. “They all would’ve.”

“Yes, and they would’ve survived.” Hart was glaring back, and Eggsy could feel himself starting to shake. “You remember Outram.”

He did. Outram was hell on Earth. He shook violently at the memories as they flooded all his senses. His room turned into the small stone cell he had been in and he cried out. He couldn’t be here again. He couldn’t be back here. He shook his head and shouted and hyperventilated. He banged his fists against the walls and stomped his feet on the ground. He hadn’t noticed the sound and the colors permeating the blue silence that was his medicated world. He should’ve noticed. 

He had spent so long locked away in solitary, unable to talk or make noise in the small cell without the guards bursting in to bash in his ribs. He felt nausea rise in his stomach and panic crawling up his arms. He would rather die than be here again. He continued to yell, and just as he expected guards burst through his door.

He expected pain. He expected to get kicked in the ribs and punched in the face. He expected the toe of a shoe to land on his gut and cut off any screams he could make. He expected to be left writhing in pain and winded.

But he wasn’t, instead he was held down and heard his name repeated multiple times. He felt someone squeezing him in a tight hug until his shouts and cries died down. Until he was left as a hyperventilating, shaking mess in their arms.

Someone was talking to him, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He knew it was English, he knew it was Roxy, but he still couldn’t understand her words. He alternated between shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut, and staring forward. He remained liked that for at least half an hour, shaking and on the verge of tears, before he fell asleep in Roxy’s arms with Merlin’s reassuring hand rubbing circles on his back.

Eggsy was hopeless. He overheard a conversation between Merlin and Roxy taking place the morning after his freakout over Outram and he knew they were planning to send him off. He was becoming too much to handle, Roxy and Merlin hadn’t been able to allow their businesses to flourish since they kept having to drop everything and care for him. They had to leave their lives to tend to a man stuck in the past. He was a nuisance, a bother, just like Hart had said to him before. He was useless.

His time was now. 

He could feel Harts presence even if he couldn’t see him. He imagine that he’d look proud. He found himself relishing the feeling of pride, as Hart sometimes still reminded him of Harry despite the sunken features and dead look. And all he had wanted to do for so long was to make Harry proud. Whenever Harry had shown that he was proud of Eggsy in their time together, Eggsy would ride that high for at least a week. It was the best feeling he could get while fighting a war. 

Eggsy walked steadily to the banister on the second floor with a twisted up bedsheet in hand. He walked with a purpose and mission, he seemed to only walk like that when he was trying to end his life. That made him feel like this must be the right plan of action. If he felt pride, if he felt purpose then it had to be right. But hadn’t the Japanese he had fought also felt pride and purpose?

He squeezed the bedsheet to dispel the thoughts. He needed to to do this now before Merlin or Roxy saw what he was doing and tried to stop him. He chuckled a little at the thought. They’d stop him from killing himself to then send him off to a place where his brains would rot. It didn’t make sense to him, not now, not when his brain was all fogged up. 

He slowly tied the bedsheet around the banister before tying it around his neck as well. He stepped over the banister one foot at a time turned so that he was facing away from it. He hands held him steady, despite their sweating and shaking. He could feel his knees going weak and he gripped the banister even tighter. He took a few deep, calming breaths. 

From this height the bed sheet would hopefully break his neck. The death would be painless and quick and he’d be done. He’d be done with all the bullshite and suffering and pain. He’d be done with all the flashbacks and hallucinations. He’d be done with guilt and sadness, anxiety and nausea. He’s never have to wonder if he’d see Harry in the afterlife, or if there even was an afterlife in the first place. He’s already been to Hell, and despite going there he knew there was no God and no Heaven.

He had done a lot of difficult things in his life. Falling in love was one, losing his love was even harder. He had survived torture and isolation, hallucinations and flashbacks. He survived poverty and an abusive step dad. He survived fighting in a war like no other. And yet standing on the banister was one of the most difficult things he had ever done. He closed his eyes and took one final deep breath

He released his hands and pitched forward. The world felt as if it was going ridiculously slow, as if time was wading through a sea of molasses. He swore that he felt Hart giving him a final shove forward as he stepped off the banister and he entered a free fall. Any second the bedsheet would catch and this would all be over. But in this one moment he no longer felt trapped or confined. He was completely free.

He wasn’t trapped by poverty and social status, by an abusive step dad and lack of opportunity. He wasn’t trapped by societal expectations for the fear of being seen as different. He wasn’t trapped by a conformative military he had to join to stay out of jail. He wasn’t trapped by the Japanese and forced to build a railroad and suffer torture for something he hadn’t done. He wasn’t trapped by a frail body and a weak mind. He wasn’t trapped by guilt and flashbacks. He wasn’t trapped by hallucinations and suicidal idealization. He wasn’t trapped by fear and disgust and hatred. 

He was free.

And so he fell.


	5. Chapter 5: Almost

“My name is Private Gary Unwin. I was stationed in Singapore as part of the Eighteenth Division of the British Army. I was infantry. The base went under attack by the Japanese, we lost a lot of men, we surrendered, and we were brought to Changi Prison. Then, some of us got sent off to labour camps. I got sent off by train to build the Thai-Burma Railway, but it's better known as the Death Railway by the people who built it.

“I was in Thailand, with a portion of my unit, and... and we were forced to build the railway on little food and water. Eighteen hours a day just about. I watched people drop dead from sickness and hunger and exhaustion. But we always tried to lighten the mood. We had smuggled with us pieces to make a radio during the surrender in Singapore. And we made it, but it was only a receiver. We couldn't contact anyone, but we could listen to British radio signals and it was enough to get us by. But then we were caught. And I willing took the blame for it. I was the youngest, you see. Plus my step-dad wasn't the nicest guy. I could take a beating better than them. And that's what I did. They... they tortured me. Asking me about the radio and not accepting a single answer I gave them. I was-- I was locked away in tiny, bamboo cages where I couldn't stretch my legs for ages. I was beat and waterboarded and starved. And when the railroads were done, I was sent to Outram. Outram Road Prison. 

“I was kept in solitary for months, years maybe. Time... blurs together after a while. They were clever about how they wanted us. We weren't to die unless we were sentenced to death, and then that's when you were beheaded. But if you had time, you were to serve it out in pain. You couldn't talk or make noise, even to yourself. We were never given enough food or water. There was disease-- scabbies, mostly. But you couldn't die. I… still hear the screams, someone was always being tortured or killed. I did my best to keep my head. I didn't know Morse code so I couldn't talk with person next to me. I was alone except for when we'd be cleaned or do a workout, uh, taiso. I'd think of everything I've ever done, everything my mum’s ever done. I'd think about what my dad did, and what'd he do now if he was here. Everything. It was the only way to keep sane. 

“And then I was free. The war was over. I was nothing more than skin and bones. I was ill and delirious and bones that had been broken were healed wrong. I don't really remember much of being saved. I was barely conscious. But I know it was one of the greatest moments of my life. Funny how that is. I can remember all the shit. But I can barely remember getting away from it. I just remember that they couldn't bring me home at first. They couldn't take any Outram prisoners home. We were so close to death and so ill that we had to go to local hospitals for immediate treatment. I was there for at least a week as they got my health up. And then I was flown home, I was still underweight and ill, but I was farther from death. And I was put here. I'm just barely at normal weight now. And I feel much healthier, I think they're gonna keep me for a few more days and then send me off.”

“You… got yourself tortured to save your friends?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Eggsy thought about his friends and about Harry. About what they had all been through, and what he was willing to go through to insure their safety. “You need need to understand… some things are worth dying for.”

“Hmm. Is that all? Do you have any names of those that tortured you?”

“Um, the Kempeitai. That's all I know.”

“Well, thank you Gary. This is more than enough. A lot of brave souls like you are sharing their stories and experiences so that the men responsible will receive their dues. They will not get away with this, you will get retribution and peace of mind.”

Eggys nodded. “Do you ever feel... disgusted by what you hear?”

“All the time, that's why I want these monsters to be locked away forever for what they've done.”

“No, but this is all false sympathy. This is all false compassion. How many stories like this you hear a day? Doesn't that gotta wear you down at some point? You turn into a robot after a while don't you? Saying the same god damn thing to everyone after we tell you our story. You only care about doing your job, getting paid to listen to our sob stories, and writing down the important information to use as evidence. You're not putting them away for us. I'm getting no retribution from this. And if you truly cared about what I told you, you'd know I ain't getting no peace of mind seeing them locked away.”

“It was nice talking to you, Mr. Unwin. Have a lovely day.” And with that the man left the room, only for Roxy to enter right after him, looking confused. 

“Who was that?” She asked, glancing back towards the door. 

“Some official collecting evidence against Japanese soldiers.”

“Don't they already have enough evidence?”

“Guess not,” Eggsy said with a shrug. Roxy sat down in the chair nearby, the one interviewer had been in, and sighed.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a corpse,” Eggsy said with a little chuckle, “but I’m getting better. I just want to go home. Have you found my mum yet?”

“We’re having difficulties.” 

“I gave you the address?”

“Yes, but she’s not there anymore.” Roxy explained, shaking her head. “I went there and it’s an entirely new family. I asked around, and apparently she couldn’t keep up with the rent after Mr. Baker went off to war.”

“Where did she go?” Eggsy was concerned for his mother. He had been looking forward to seeing her and Daisy again. Had she been homeless with a child in the middle of the war? 

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Merlin’s looking now, finding her friends or anyone else she could’ve been staying with.”

“Where will I go?” Eggsy realized, if his mum had lost the apartment then he had no home to go back to.

“With me, with all of us. I have it covered already. I’m going to be your nurse, I’ll be overseeing the rest of your healing process at a manor in the countryside. It’ll help to reduce your stress and the fresh air can do nothing but help. I feel like everyone could use a bit of fresh air.”

“I’m not going,” Eggsy stated firmly. Roxy seemed confused by Eggsy stance on the matter. “Not without my mom” 

Roxy’s face quickly turned into a look of understanding. “We’ll find her. We promise. And then we’ll all go to the countryside together.

Eggsy nodded. “Only after you find her.” He was unable to hold back a small smile. “Now when you say manor...”

Roxy chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

Merlin found Michelle two days later after some extensive searching. She had been living off the couch of a friend she had known before she met Dean. It wasn’t the high life, but it was enough to get by. All she had to do was earn her keep by helping to cook and keep the place tidy. She was more than enthusiastic to go live in the manor with her son and his friends. 

He was released from the hospital a day after. He was given a wheelchair because he was still impressively skinny. He had lost a lot of muscle and fat sitting in Outram and it was advisable to take a wheelchair because he could become easily fatigued or even break a bone from walking too much. 

They took a car up to the manor and Roxy helped him out of the car and into the wheelchair. His mother and sister, as well as himself, all gawked at the impressive sight before them. They had never seen a building so pristine, especially not one that they would be staying in. 

Roxy leaned down to Eggsy’s ear whispered, slightly amused by his gawking. “This place is as much yours as it is mine now.” 

The sound of tires crunching signalled that another car was approaching. They all turned to look as if they didn’t know who it was, but they all did. Out of the car stepped Alastair and James, looking worse for ware, but not as bad as Eggsy. They stepped forward quickly to give Roxy a quick hug despite having seen her just a bit ago when they packed up the cars. After being away at war and prisoners for so long they hated letting Roxy go. And Roxy hated letting them go. They were both skinnier with a few scars visible, but they were healthy and safe and that was all that mattered.

Then came Harry in his long coat and fancy suit. He too looked skinnier with a few scars, but Eggsy still found him to be the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Harry approached the group that had formed, but refrained from enveloping Eggsy in a hug. He hadn’t exactly had time to tell his mum about what Harry truly was to him. He would’ve been upset at the lack of affection, but they had plenty of that when they were first reunited. 

They all entered the house in a leisurely pace, talking and chatting and laughing. And Eggsy closed his eyes and just listened. He couldn’t imagine losing these people. They were his family, they were people he’s bonded with and fought with. He loved them and moments like this where everyone was happy and there was no looming threat of war reminded him of that. 

“You alright Eggsy?” Michelle asked as the entered the manor. Eggsy opened his eyes to look at his mother and smiled. 

“Everything’s perfect.”

They planned to tell Michelle that night at dinner. Eggsy didn’t know how it would go, as he they had never talked about anything like this before. But he couldn’t expect the worst. His mother loved him, she liked Harry. She had almost lost her son to war and hugged him for an hour when she saw him again. She had always been full of love and acceptance, and he could only see her loving and accepting him and Harry.

“Mum, I have something to tell you.” Eggsy said, placing his fork on the table.

Michelle quirked an eyebrow, setting her fork down and taking a sip of her drink to help clear her mouth quicker. “Yeah?”

“Well,” he hadn’t actually thought about what he was going to say. He had told Harry that he was going to do it, but he didn’t really think about how. “Harry and I are more than just friends.”

There was a pause before Michelle burst out into laughter. Eggsy was very confused, but he looked around the table to find everyone else wearing varying degrees of smirks. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Eggsy, baby, I’ve been in love before,” she said after calming her laughter. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “The way you look at Harry is the same way your father looked at me. I’ve known since you introduced me.”

Eggsy was blushing a lot out of embarrassment. “And you’re fine with it?”

“Of course,” she gestured to James and Alastair who were sat across the table. “Don’t think I didn’t see the same look in your two friends over there. It’s your life Eggsy. As long as you’re happy, and healthy, and alive I’ll love you. You’re my son, you mean the world to me. I’d rather see you happy with a man, then miserable with a woman. You understand?” She cupped his face and he nodded. He couldn’t hold back a smile, but he could hold back tears of relief and happiness. 

“I love you, mum.”

“I love you too baby.”

After that Harry and Eggsy had no need to hide their affection and they spent as much time together as they could. Harry helped Eggsy rebuild muscle by taking slow walks out in the fields. Harry would push along the wheelchair and they'd just talk about everything and nothing. He felt peaceful and happy, despite tripping and stumbling over his own feet often, despite getting winded and fatigued and needing to rest in the wheelchair. 

He was getting better. His body was getting stronger and he could walk longer distances. He could stay awake longer and eat more food. He could smile and laugh again like he hadn't spent ages in torture. He was able to go home, wheelchair free, with Harry to work in his shop. Just like he had hoped for when he thought about their future during training and war.

But he still had flashbacks. Despite his health and happiness he woke up in the middle of the night crying and screaming. Begging to be let go, begging for the pain to stop. He still found himself throwing up meals due to memories and spacing out to travel into his mind. 

But he always found a warm, reassuring presence that grounded him and brought him back to reality. That cleaned him up and sat with him until he was positive that he was here and now.

He remembered his time in the hospital where he didn't know who had survived and who had died. Where he could barely eat and his sleep was plagued by nightmares. Where he felt more like a shell of a human being than an actual person. He didn't feel like that now, not with Harry. He wasn't completely fine, but he wasn't as bad as he could be.

“Breathe Eggsy,” Harry was rubbing large circles into his back. He had just been back in Thailand, being punished for the radio. He had been beaten and then waterboarded. He was drowning on land in nothing but his trauma. But like a guardian angel, Harry pulled Eggsy out of his memories and his suffocation and comforted him until he fell asleep.

Harry couldn’t prevent his flashbacks, but he could comfort Eggsy after them.

Harry wasn't fine either. He'd wake with nightmares, albeit less frequently than Eggsy, and Eggsy would calm him just as he gets calmed. But together they helped each other and they flourished. Eggsy would watch Harry work, measuring and cutting and even sewing fabrics. He’d pick up on Harry’s habits and even learn a thing or two about tailoring. But he never committed himself to learning. Instead he'd wander around the other Savile Row shops, picking up skills as he went. He always heard chuckles and people telling him that he reminded them of James when he first started working at Savile Row; just going wherever he was needed. He would visit his mum and sister everyday, he had bought them a small flat and paid off the first few months of rent. His mom wouldn't let him do any more than that, saying that she wanted to work and pay the rent herself but that didn’t stop him from visiting her. He didn’t want to lose her again. 

One day, Eggsy returned from one of his walks with a dog. It was a fawn pug with a collar and it could barely be older than a few months. He was looking down at the pug in his arms, petting and cooing at him. But he looked up as he entered the tailor shop to see Harry’s reaction. It didn’t seem pleasant. 

“Tell me you didn’t get us a dog.” Harry put down the fabric he was folding to give Eggsy his full attention. 

“No, but I found him.” Eggsy smiled to try and defuse any frustration.

“Or you stole him, if the collar is anything to go by. You need to return him.”

“I tried that. I went to the address and there was no one there, nothing in or around the house. It looks like the owners must’ve moved out and left poor little JB behind.” Eggsy held J.B. up over his head and smiled at him.

“J.B.?” Harry raised an eyebrow

“It’s the name on the collar.” Eggsy brought the dog back to his chest. “So can we keep him?”

“No.”

“Harry, c’mon. It’ll be good for us. I hear dogs can be helpful for people who’ve been through what we have.” Eggsy knew that Harry understood what he was referencing. There had been many instances of dogs boosting morality in hospitals and improving people’s lives. “I can train him, teach him tricks that’ll make you laugh. He’d be better here than locked up in some cage at the pound. I think we both understand that being locked away ain’t fun.”

“You have a big heart Eggsy. I want it to stay that way. We can keep him.”

J.B. became a welcome addition to the family on Savile Row. Eggsy spent his time training him how to fetch fabric and tools and do small tricks meant to entertain. He even earned a spot in Harry and Eggsy’s bed after plenty of begging on Eggsy’s part, and after a very thorough bath. Merlin even started to joke that J.B. had become a sort of child for the two. And neither did anything to argue that point. 

Life was pleasant, more or less.

They had survived being prisoners of war. They had survived the beatings and the railroad and the disease. They had made it. And they had done it together. Eggsy couldn’t wish for anything else. If nothing eventful happened in his life, he’d be happy. He’d had plenty of excitement, danger, and exhilaration.

And that’s exactly how it went.

For years Eggsy cherished life’s small events. He witnessed a proposal at a park, he saw a movie in the cinema, he learned the waltz, he grew his own carrots, he watched Daisy go to her first day of school, he witnessed someone catch Roxy’s fancy. Life was always happening and continuing, and moving forward with the little things. A war didn’t need to occur for things to happen. The small things people overlook everyday was enough for Eggsy to feel as if he was living. 

And then one by one his loved ones disappeared. J.B. then Harry and Merlin, then James and Alastair, and then Michelle. He had Roxy and Daisy, who was well into her adult years at this point, and it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it might. They didn’t die before their time. They had lived full lives and he had had time to prepare for their passing. It wasn’t a happy moment when any of them died, but he could live with it. 

And he did. For a good few long years before the abuse he had suffered caught up with him and he died at the ripe old age of seventy-two. It happened in hospice two days after suffering a heart attack. It was peaceful and in his sleep. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

And then the rope caught. 

And in a split second he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's obviously a lot of references to Alastair and James' past, if you'd like to see a prequel that features them tell me.  
> Also maybe tell me how you liked the fic? As well as anything else you'd like to see.


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